The Survival Job
by Goody
Summary: Nate had a point when he said that going after a mob boss in their own city could be dangerous. *Eliot-centric*
1. There are men here, with guns

The Survival Job

By Goody

Author's Notes: I have kind of stuck Eliot and Sophie in an intense situation together but this is not a romance or ship fic in any way, they were just the team members that made logical sense to be in this situation in my head. For the sake of the fic, the office is a little larger than it tends to appear on the show. Also, Eliot is ridiculously hot. Just thought I'd mention that, and I love a good H/C fic, which this will be.

Disclaimer: I do not own or make a profit from my fantastical fanfiction imaginings. Which is sad.

Spoilers: Very mild ones for a couple episodes, lots for The Wedding Job.

Rating: PG-13 – swearing, lots of violence

Setting: Any time between the Wedding Job and the First David Job.

Summary: Nate had a point when he said that going after a mob boss in their own city could be dangerous.

Leverage Headquarters  
Friday, 9pm

The Leverage Headquarters were relatively quiet for a Friday night with half the team away preparing for their next job and the other half in their respective offices preparing for the parts they had to play that evening. The silence of the night was briefly destroyed though by a growl from the far corner office.

"Ahhh! I hate these things."

Hearing Eliot's violent exclamation of anger Sophie poked her head very carefully into his office in time to see him throw the offending object on the table in front of him.

"Would you like some help with that?" Sophie offered carefully, knowing an agitated Eliot was a dangerous Eliot and she should tread softly.

Eliot's teeth gritted. He wouldn't admit aloud that he needed a hand but he did snatch the tie off the table and hold it out to Sophie, more than willing to let her try. She took the piece of fabric and looped it around Eliot's neck, turning him away from the mirror to face her.

"You know you're the one who said you wanted to wear a suit next time," she teased lightly over the fact that he wanted to wear the tuxedo but apparently couldn't put it on right. She remembered his disastrous bowtie in Belgrade as well, even Ingrid had called attention to it.

"Yeah, cause I don't like serving disgusting finger foods to rich snobs, it wasn't because I liked the outfit," Eliot explained, feeling uncomfortable and unable to move freely in the suit.

"_You're just never happy, man,"_ Hardison's voice pointed out in their ear buds. "_Seriously, do you ever smile? I mean, apart from when you're punching something with extreme angst?"_

The computer hacker was currently sitting in a van they had set up as a command center outside the party Sophie and Eliot were getting ready to attend to lure in their mark. Hardison had been working surveillance to learn the guard rotations and security system in the building but he was getting bored and had activated the com units for the whole team so they could chat.

"_Oh, I saw him smile!"_ Parked piped in, who was setting up her repelling gear on the roof of the building. "_It was when he got that really big steak the other night. It was so bloody it didn't even look like it was cooked."_

"_Oh yeah_," Hardison agreed, obviously laughing on the other end of the com unit. "_His face lit up like a Christmas tree, probably only would have been happier if he got to hunt it down and kill it himself first."_

"Hey, I was smilin' at the waitress, not the steak," Eliot added calmly, oddly not defensive.

"_Sure, how'd that work out for you?"_ Hardison asked smugly over the com link.

Now it was Eliot's turn to smirk as he one-upped the hacker, "Came in late the next day didn't I?"

Sophie stifled a laugh while Parker giggled. Hardison was coming up with a response when Nate's commanding tone took over the airwaves.

"_The coms are for important communications everyone, not gossip. So if we can keep the conversations about Eliot's emotions, or lack thereof, to a minimum that would be great."_

"_None of y'all know how to have any fun_," Hardison mumbled in response to the reprimand. A shocked and offended gasp made him reconsider the comment, "_Not you Parker, you have more fun than should be humanly possible."_

"_Thanks_," she answered and everyone could hear ropes on the other end being pulled into position.

Nate, who was with Hardison in the command center van calculating every angle of their plan, then asked, "_Eliot, Sophie everything running smoothly_?"

Sophie smiled as she finished Eliot's now pristine tie, "Perfectly. We'll be there soon."

For a woman who was compulsive about shoes, fashion and her appearance, Sophie was incredibly good at getting ready on time and had actually been waiting for Eliot so they could leave. With his outfit finished they could be out the door and on their way to the party. She was posing as a real estate developer and they were trying to trap an oil tycoon was had been forcing people out of their homes so he could build condominiums and shopping malls. Eliot had only a basic cover story for the party, he wasn't going as Sophie's date he was just there as back up in case she needed help or a quick exit.

"_Guests are arriving now, no sign of our guy yet but it's just a matter of time_," Nate reported.

"Nate, we'll be there," Sophie reassured him, knowing he was only nagging to make sure they stayed on schedule.

"He's a bit of a control freak, huh?" Eliot pointed out to Sophie.

"_I can still hear you!"_ Nate reminded him.

"Yeah, I know," Eliot said, not the least bit apologetic. Sophie was about to respond when she noticed Eliot's eyes shifting focus to the hallway while his entire body tensed. "Shh."

"Eliot?" she questioned as her stomach tightened into knots from the look of concentration and danger on his face as he continued to listen quietly for a few more moments.

"Stay here," he all but whispered and vanished silently from the room to head towards the front of the office.

Sophie did as instructed but couldn't help peaking around the corner to watch Eliot's progress. The retrieval specialist hadn't explained what was wrong but his actions and composure told her that he felt something wasn't right and she was smart enough to trust Eliot's instincts when it came to anything involving security.

"_Sophie, what's going on?"_ Nate asked over the comlink, apprehensive about the silence and the tone of Eliot's voice.

"I don't know," Sophie replied with a hush. "Eliot thinks something's wrong, he's checking it out."

"_What could go wrong?"_ Hardison questioned, back in the van. "_We haven't even started the job yet_."

Meanwhile, Eliot had reached the front of the office and was still searching for the source of the sound he had heard. The sound he was almost sure had been voices and footsteps. Their office took up the entire floor of the office building so unless a client was coming in search of some help at 9 o'clock on a Friday night, someone was where they weren't supposed to be. Eliot put his eye to the peephole in the front office door just in time to see the armed men on the other side getting into position in front of it.

"Shit," he muttered, seeing at least three guns aimed at the door. With a running leap he vaulted over the desk behind him and covered his head just as the first bullet broke through the door and into the wall above him. More bullets quickly followed, denting the desk he was crouched behind as well as filling the back wall with holes and destroying the three locks they kept on the door.

"Oh god!" Sophie exclaimed as she heard the shots and ducked further into Eliot's office, fearing the worst. "Eliot, are you all right?"

She ridiculously thought to try to find a weapon, but the only thing to use against armed men would be guns and she knew Eliot had none of those. Voices suddenly exploded in her ear along with the sound of continued gunfire.

"_Sophie, what's going on?"_ Nate demanded.

"_Are those gunshots?"_ Hardison asked fearfully.

"_Did you break something_?" Parker enquired.

It was the last question that truly grabbed her attention though, "Sophie, I'm pinned down and these guys are coming in. I need you to get to the control room and kill the lights."

Whoever these men were they were going to break through the door at any minute. Eliot could hear the sound of at least six different guns, and if he didn't have some kind of advantage when they came through then he knew they were both dead.

Terrified out of her mind Sophie was tempted to shout "No!" and hide behind a desk and hope for the best rather than enter into the battlefield that seemed to be going on outside but she forced herself to remain calm. She was very close to the control room, it was literally about two steps across the hallway and Eliot was her best, probably only, chance to get out of the building alive so she took a deep breath and responded, "I'm going."

Steeling herself she kicked off her high heels and then sprinted across the hallway in her bare feet and turned sharply into the control room. The bullets had sounded louder in the hall but she hadn't felt any pass near her for which she was grateful. As she pulled the doors closed behind her she finally responded to the rest of her team mates.

"There are men here, with guns," she reported as she opened up the fuse box on the wall that she hoped had what she needed. "I don't know who they are, they could be anyone."

Back in the van across town Nate shot Hardison one of the dirtiest looks he had ever received, "I thought we had an alarm system!"

"We do. It tells you if anyone's trying to get in through the windows or the door, it's not a magic anti-assault system," Hardison defended himself as they collected their things together and got ready to drive back to the office, their mission forgotten.

"Oh, they're coming through the door all right!" Eliot yelled in anger, hating being stuck and under heavy fire.

"Sophie, pull the top four fuses from the box. It'll cut the lights on the whole floor," Hardison explained to her having heard Eliot's earlier request.

"Got them," Sophie sighed in relief as she spotted the well labeled fuses and began to switch them off.

"Parker, we're leaving," Nate yelled, more than willing to leave the thief if she couldn't get to them in seconds.

"On my waayyyyy." From the way her voice trailed off they all knew she had taken the most direct route down and jumped off the building.

In the front of the office the shooting stopped for just a moment and Eliot knew the door was about to get kicked in. It was his only chance to move. Rising silently three things happened at once, he reached a defendable position at the side of the door to maximize his advantage, the wood splintered revealing a hallway filled with angry, armed Italian men and as the first one stepped in everything went dark.

The sudden blackness caught the intruders off guard but Eliot had been counting on that and pounced, quickly taking the offence. For the first few moments it wasn't so much a fight as one-sided destruction. These guys were thugs, Eliot had seen that in his brief glimpse of them. Some of them were beefy and built but none had formal training, probably all accustomed to using bats and guns for their dirty work. They were no match for the hitter who took out each one with a practiced two or three blow combination of strikes. The whole situation worked to his advantage really, in the dark they wouldn't fire their weapons in case they hit one another and with the door as their only entrance Eliot had only to dispatch them as they entered. The dark unfortunately didn't allow him to keep track of how many there were but he would worry about that later. With quick jabs and kicks he made sure to keep moving because he could tell from their frenzied shouts that they had no idea where he was or how many men were attacking them and he wanted to keep it that way.

"Where are they?"

"What happened to the lights?"

"The left, they're over on the … uh!"

"Find the lights!"

In the confusion Eliot had easily taken down four of the assailants when one goon finally decided he would not be a lamb for the slaughter. Eliot heard the man mumble, "hell with this", followed by the click of a safety being flicked off so he grabbed the lapels of the man he had just knocked unconscious and held the body in front of him as a shield. Bullets impacted the thug's back, he was a heavy bastard and Eliot was having trouble holding up his dead weight for so long but he was grateful for the added thickness of the man as it kept the bullets from going straight through his body and into Eliot.

And through all this Eliot was forced to ignore the barrage of voices all clearly resounding in his ear demanding to know what was happening and who was coming after them.

Back in the van Parker had arrived as quickly as gravity could get her there and Nate was now driving them back to the office while Hardison used his laptop to log in to the systems at the office in hopes of being some help to their team mates. When the gunfire had stopped they all listened for a moment in stunned silence to Eliot grunting along with the sound of flesh meeting flesh in remarkably fast succession as their retrieval specialist took on the intruders. Not being able to see the fight they could only pray that Eliot was the one inflicting all the damage and not the one on the receiving end.

Finally breaking himself out of the stupor the battle sounds had created Nate pulled himself back to reality, anchored by concern for his teammates, "Sophie, you have to move now while Eliot keeps them busy. Go to my office, there's a panic room behind my book case. Once you get there I'll explain how to get in."

"How come we don't have panic rooms?" Parker asked incredulously.

"Not now Parker!" Nate shouted and the thief slapped her jaw closed hating that if she couldn't talk she would be forced to listen to the sounds of bullets ripping through their office and Eliot fighting for his and Sophie's lives.

Back in the office Sophie hesitated to take the first step out of the control room, "I can't just leave Eliot by himself."

Nate would have strangled her if he didn't want to keep her alive so badly, "Eliot can take care of himself, in fact he'll be able to take even better care of himself if he doesn't have to worry about protecting you. Hardison's logging into the office systems now, there's nothing you can do to help Eliot that he can't except get yourself out of there!"

The argument was compelling and Sophie was almost convinced that she wouldn't be totally abandoning Eliot if she were to run but she still couldn't make herself take that step out of the conference room until the next voice piped in.

"Sophie, go!"

It was Eliot, grunting that she should get out of there and she absolutely could not deny a request from the man fighting to save her life. It was the last push she needed and she felt along the wall in the dark until she found the door handle.

"I'm going," she whispered.

"Good girl," Nate said with relief.

When she opened the doors to the hallway she found it wasn't completely pitch black like she thought it would be as the lights from the city were still pouring in through the windows, casting just enough shadow and light to see by. She knew the way to Nate's office and took off at a light jog, wanting to get there quickly but not wanting to hit a wall or make any unnecessary noise. As much as she hated to admit it she desperately wished she could turn off the sound from Eliot's earpiece as the rest of the team was now immersed in silence and forced to listen to the sound of bones breaking and men screaming in pain or falling to the floor. If she listened closely she could just make out the sound of car horns and tires squealing over Nate's comlink and she tried to focus on that instead.

Turning the corner she found there weren't any windows in the hallway leading to Nate's office and his door was closed making the last stretch of her journey pitch black. She started forward more slowly, grateful she had taken off her shoes that would slow her down and create unnecessary noise. Down the hall and over her ear bud she heard an incredible cry of pain and stopped, praying it wasn't Eliot. The rest of the team drew in a hushed breath as well, hearing the scream and thinking the same thing.

"Eliot?" she enquired, clearly worried and wondering if she should turn around and go back. There had to be something she could do to help couldn't there?

"I said get out of here," Eliot whispered back, harshly and quickly, trying to concentrate on the fight and not giving away his position. As the sounds of the fight continued they all convinced themselves it couldn't have been their Retrieval Specialist who had cried out or the struggle would probably be over. Parker even sent a muted cheer through the earpieces of, "Kick their butts Eliot. Go for the groin."

With a sigh of relief Sophie took the last step to Nate's office. Just as she touched the door handle she finally sensed the presence behind her but it was too late. There was a hand over her mouth and a gun at her temple.

Terror flooding over her she wanted to scream but a mouth at her ear whispered, "Shhh." And the gun pressed in harder.

The strong arm around her turned her around and marched her back the way she came towards Eliot, towards the fight she had so desperately been trying to escape. She knew now she was right in the middle of it and she had no way to warn Eliot of that fact.

TBC

Hope you're enjoying my first Leverage fanfic. I'm so glad there's a season 2 but the wait shall be painful. Hopefully this can help some of you get through the withdrawal like myself. Want more? Let me know. Later, Goody.


	2. Where's the Rest of Your Team?

The Survival Job Part 2/?  
Author's Notes: Many thanks for all the kind words from my reviewers. It seems most of you want more action, more team and more Eliot. Below you will find all three. Hope you enjoy.  
Disclaimer: I do not own or make a profit from my fantastical fanfiction imaginings. Which is sad.  
Spoilers: Very mild ones for a couple episodes, lots for The Wedding Job.  
Rating: PG-13 – swearing, lots of violence  
Setting: Any time between the Wedding Job and the First David Job.  
Summary: Nate had a point when he said that going after a mob boss in their own city could be dangerous.

At the front of the office Eliot felt the fight drawing to a close. His chest was heaving, this was a lot of men, even for him and he had been hit a few times, thankfully not by any bullets, mostly by blind swings and luck but it was all taking its toll and he was tiring. The lights cutting out suddenly had made the office appear pitch black but after a few moments his eyes adjusted and he could see the shapes of his opponents around him quite clearly and there were only a few left. One of them must have run out of bullets because he actually came at Eliot with a knife. The hitter deftly grabbed the man's wrist and snapped it back causing him to drop the weapon as Eliot kicked a man in the face who was trying to rise up off the floor. Eliot caught the knife in his other hand before it hit the ground and then hit the man in the temple with the handle, knocking him out cold. For a reason he didn't want to evaluate he was reluctant to spill blood here in the office, almost as though he didn't want to taint the area with death or violence. Could he really have started to think of this place as a home that he needed to protect?

His thought pattern changed again quickly when he saw his final opponent was starting to lift a gun to Eliot's head, but even winded Eliot was faster. He ducked to make the man change direction, grabbed the thug's wrist and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to drop the weapon as Eliot's second arm wrapped around the man's windpipe and squeezed. The expert knew where to apply pressure and the man dropped in ten seconds. Then it was over.

Eliot stood, winded but triumphant, wiping blood off his forehead from a cut that threatened to spill into his eye. He squinted to see his battlefield more clearly, there were at least a dozen guys. He smiled briefly, impressed with himself. He was pretty sure only one was dead, most were unconscious, some were just writhing in pain but he would knock them out in a second and leave one awake for information.

There was a scraping sound behind him barely covered by the grunts of pain of Eliot's victims. Spinning around Eliot brought up the knife, ready to throw it if he needed to take someone out at a distance. When he saw that the shape approaching him was wearing a dress and was female he almost let himself relax but it was obvious that something was wrong. He hefted the knife up higher.

"Mr. Spencer, unless you would like Ms. Devereaux's brains decorating your walls here I suggest you stand down, now," A slightly accented voice warned him from the darkness. It was exactly what Eliot had wanted to avoid at all costs, one man had gotten by him in the dark and now they had a hostage situation and for once, the team had no leverage.

He could see the outline of the man, he was well shielded by Sophie's body, even with light Eliot knew he might not be able to take the guy out with a knife throw let alone in the near pitch dark. His face set into a grim expression as he considered his options. In his ear he heard Nate's voice, trying not to shake – their leader had clearly heard the threat too.

"What's going on?" Nate asked, but Eliot had a feeling he probably didn't want to know.

"Gun to Sophie's head," Eliot explained, simply and barely moving his jaw. "Too far to disarm."

Down the hall Eliot couldn't see Sophie clearly but knew she was shaking and her voice sounded like she was probably crying when she told him breathlessly, "I'm sorry Eliot."

"It's not your fault Sophie," Nate whispered in her ear, knowing Eliot probably wouldn't express the words in front of an adversary as it might imply weakness.

"I'm waiting Mr. Spencer," the man reiterated by pushing the gun harder against Sophie's head causing her to whimper involuntarily. Despite her fear though, Sophie was strong and smart. She knew Eliot could get away easily and she didn't want him to get caught because of her.

"Don't do it Eliot, they'll just kill us both," she advised, trying to keep her voice steady and sure as she basically told her teammate to leave her behind.

Back in the van Hardison had his hands over his face, not sure he could breathe. This situation was bad, it was just so very bad. Beside him Parker just waited, she wasn't sure how she felt or how she should feel.

In the front Nathan drove like a madman to get back to the office, but it was made worse by the fact that he was not paying any attention to the road and was completely devoted to the situation playing out in his earpiece. His heart told him to yell and scream at Eliot to "stand down you idiot he's going to kill her" but his mind knew that this was Eliot's specialty, it was his situation, but most importantly, it was his life on the line as well. It took every ounce of willpower Nate had, but he finally whispered the only advice he knew he could give.

"It's your call Eliot, we trust you."

Eliot flinched, that was not what he had wanted to hear. This was why he always worked alone, more than the others, his life depended on it. He had to be able to leave, to bug out the second a job went south. Teammates meant attachments, meant weaknesses that he couldn't have, shouldn't have in his line of work, but he had been running alone so long it felt good to have somewhere to go. Somewhere safe that he didn't have to run from that had people that were there when he came back.

And now they trusted him. Of all the goddamn bad luck.

He sighed. The knife dropped to the floor along with his defensive stance. Meeting the man's eye he hissed out a threat he meant with all his heart.

"You hurt her, you die slow."

The man smirked and laughed as Eliot dropped to his knees and put his hands on his head, surrendering. Around him he could hear and see the men he had not fully knocked out rising to their feet, slowly.

"Tie him up, tightly," the man ordered, clearly in charge. Eliot felt beefy hands from behind grab his wrists and twist them down into a pair of handcuffs. He growled, he hated handcuffs. The cuffs were followed by two swift blows to the stomach. It hurt but he managed to keep himself from toppling over as he leaned forward and took some heavy breaths through the pain. Looking up he met Sophie's eye and saw the deep depths of regret that pooled there as he had just agreed to a probable death sentence to save her life. He could only nod to her slightly, his way of indicating they would be all right. He didn't have a plan or anything but he was the protector of this team as much as Nate was the leader and he would protect it if it was the last thing he did. Glancing around at the deadly glare in the eyes of the men who were still standing, he realized it just might be.

"You boys all okay?" the boss asked as he handed Sophie over to another thug now that Eliot was restrained.

"Benny and Mike are out," one voice reported from the darkness behind them. "Jimmy too."

"Jesus, Lou, over here, Paul's dead," another person added, both shocked and angered. Eliot figured that was the guy he had used as a shield.

"What?" the boss, Lou apparently, rushed past Eliot to see for himself. When he re-entered the thief's line of sight his face was set in a grim mask of anger as he hauled back and punched Eliot hard across the face. Eliot had seen it coming and had moved with it, but it still hurt like a bitch and he fell over from the sheer force with a grunt. "You killed one of my boys."

"I never fired a shot," Eliot pointed out as he pushed himself back up awkwardly, shrugging off the blow to the face. "That means one of your boys killed him. Course it doesn't really matter, you've all been dead since you stepped into my house, you just happen to still be breathin'."

This time a fist grabbed his considerable amount of hair and pulled his head back while Lou gritted out in his ear, "You are one cocky son of a bitch."

The next blow wasn't a punch but a knee to the face that made Eliot's eyes water and head spin as he landed hard on his back. Sophie gasped and struggled to try to get to him but she was held back.

"I can't wait to beat that out of you," Lou said gleefully. "Find some chairs to put these two in and get the goddamn lights back on."

As he was hauled to his feet Eliot's eyes sought out Sophie once more. She was closer and he could see that he had been right, she was crying a little and there was still a gun pointed at her, though loosely now as her wrists were also handcuffed. He appreciated that she had stayed quiet while these goons got their blows in on him – he was the one who had drawn their wrath by fighting them and he didn't want her to get caught in the crosshairs. He gave her another quick nod to let her know he was okay and then they were both dragged down the hallway.

"And make sure the rest of this place is searched. If any of these other scumbags are here I want them found," Lou bellowed from ahead of them.

That was another thing – what the hell was this all about? The team as a whole, and each one of them individually, had pissed off so many people it was almost impossible to narrow it down to just one.

"What the hell do you people want? Who are you?" Sophie demanded ahead of him. Her voice had an edge of hysteria that he was fairly certain she was just putting on for show in an attempt to play the innocent card, but he was pretty sure all hopes of playing off the "we're just a consulting firm" routine died when he singlehandedly dispatched a dozen armed men. Still, he would let her play her games.

"I suppose we never did get properly introduced Ms. Devereaux, or is it Ms. Holden?" the Italian man asked, causing Sophie's heart to drop. She knew exactly when she had used that alias last. "I'm Lou Mosconi. I believe you knew my uncle before you robbed him and got him sent off to prison."

Eliot had to ask for some reason, "Your uncle …?"

"Nicky Mosconi."

"I was afraid of that," Eliot mumbled, sagging slightly. This was just trouble, not only had they taken money from this man's family they had put his uncle behind bars, basically robbing him of the rest of his life. This was going to be beyond personal.

Back in the van Nate listened intently even though all he seemed to be able to hear in his head was NO NO NO NO NO NO! Two of his team were in incredible danger because of a job he had agreed to do, in their city, where they had apparently not covered their tracks nearly as well as they had thought.

"Hardison how is the remote link-up coming?"

"I'm in but there's not much I can do other than turn on the cameras so we can see what's going on in there?" There was a moment of silence as they all wondered if they really did want to see what was happening to their friends at the hands of an angry mob boss. They unanimously decided they didn't, but they had to. This was not a time to be abandoning their teammates.

"Do it," Nate ordered. "And find out more about Lou Mosconi, anything that might help Sophie and Eliot."

"On it," Hardison replied, but first he turned on the office cameras to find that the hitmen had managed to get the lights back on which forced he and Parker to watch in sickening Technicolor as Eliot and Sophie were both manhandled into the conference room and forced into chairs by mob thugs.

"This is bad, this is very bad. This is like death kind of bad, this man is very pissed off, he's going to hurt them," Parker rambled, getting close to hysterical.

"We know Parker, we're doing everything we can," Nate assured her, but she disagreed.

"No, no, what about the cops? I mean, yeah it sucks, but jail is better than dead and we could bust them out later," Parker offered as a plan. "The cops have guns and would save them."

"We'll keep it as a last option. I'm worried if the cops show up Mosconi will just kill them or create an even worse hostage situation."

"A worse situation than this! We bankrupted this gang, we put his uncle in jail! He's going to be angry, and yell and … and do things, bad things," Parker trailed off, emotionally confused.

Hardison leaned over to her, pulling out his earpiece as he whispered to her, "Parker, Sophie and Eliot can hear you. Be strong. Be Parker."

She looked apologetic for a moment and then accepted his words with a shaky nod and spoke deliberately into her earpiece, "Oh, um, I … I strongly believe we will rescue you both unscathed and … please ignore everything else I just said."

Hardison wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Eliot roll his eyes.

Back in the conference room Eliot and Sophie found themselves cuffed tightly to metal chairs that neither had ever found uncomfortable until this very moment. What worried them both was that this guy knew their names, their real names, or as real as they got, and had also clearly done his research because they were both cuffed very tightly and had even been searched for lockpicks. Sophie had had one hidden away, Eliot had two, one in each shoe. Looking over at Sophie in the light he was relieved to see she hadn't been hurt and he took stock of himself instead. No broken bones, yet, a sore face, pounding headache, bloody nose, sore shoulder and cuts and bruises everywhere. Not too bad considering.

All eyes travelled to the door as one of Lou's men came in, limping Eliot noted with a smirk, and reported, "There's no one else here, but there's five offices, all used. They were here."

"All right, keep some boys in the lobby and the hallway and search those offices, find out where they went."After issuing his orders and staying behind in the conference room with just two of his thugs, Lou then turned to Eliot and Sophie with an impatient grin, "So, who wants to tell me where the rest of your friends are?"

Sophie was about to stammer something out when Eliot beat her to it, "I don't have any friends, a lot like you I'd imagine."

In two steps Lou was in front of Eliot, delivering yet another blow to the thief's face. Sophie flinched and turned away. Eliot didn't make a sound, just took a moment to compose himself and spit out the blood pooling in his mouth.

"If I wasn't so keen to do this myself I would hand you over to the Butcher right now, just cause I know how much fun he would have hacking into you," Mosconi said gleefully as he removed his jacket and laid it over a chair. Eliot knew it was an unspoken signal, things were about to get messy and he steeled himself for it, but what truly scared him was when Lou moved past him and towards Sophie.

"Now, I need some information from the two of you, I want to know where your other scumbag con-artist friends are and I want every dime you stole from my uncle, and I want it tonight. Now."

His last word was accentuated when he grabbed Sophie's hair and pulled it back tightly. Eliot growled but it only spurred Sophie into her first lie of the evening, beautifully acted as always.

"Please, we can get you the money, it's no problem, we'll transfer it to you, but we don't know where the others are. The team split up a few weeks ago. It's just us."

Moving down to whisper in her ear, Lou responded, "Somehow, I don't believe you and I will find out where they are. Lucky for you though, my Mama, she raised me with certain values, morals. The top of her list was to never hit a woman, especially a beautiful one like yourself, unless it is absolutely necessary. This is bad news for you Mr. Spencer, because you're going to tell me where to find your friends even if it takes all night to beat it out of you."

This was said with a menacing smile, to which Eliot responded smoothly, "I think they went to your Mama's."

All four of his teammates cringed as Eliot taunted the mobster yet again and they held their breaths in fear of what the man's reaction would be.

This time it was a quick succession of hits, two to Eliot's ribs, and three in the solar plexus. The retrieval specialist's training kicked in, he tensed before the hits to protect himself, but he still felt a rib give a little and couldn't stop the grunt of pain that accompanied the final shot to his abdomen. Next to him, Sophie could stay silent no more about Eliot's mistreatment.

"Stop it, please. He won't tell you anything. If you know who he is then you know who he's worked for, he's not going to talk, no matter what you do," she pleaded, not thinking clearly for once and only wanting them to stop hurting her friend, who was only being hurt because he had foolishly decided to protect her.

Beside her, Eliot gave her a look that said "are you trying to get me killed?" She didn't know how to respond to that so could only shake her head, but Lou was laughing again.

"He'll talk," Lou decided. "But even if he doesn't, I'll still get to enjoy the beating and then I'll get the information out of _you_." He added, looking at Sophie.

His point made, Lou turned back to Eliot and hit him hard across the face again, in the temple, then the jaw. Eliot's head snapped back with each shot but like clockwork he would bring his head up again and make eye contact with Lou, almost as if he was asking for more. Lou gladly obliged, changing his position he delivered three hard blows to Eliot's ribs and along with getting the wind stolen out of him this time he did feel one break.

"Ah god," Hardison whispered softly as he turned away, not able to watch his friend get beaten in front of him while he did nothing.

"This is getting really bad," Parker announced to Nate as they watched the events unfold in the back of the van. "Like, getting close to calling the police bad."

"Please stop," Sophie begged, but it only seemed to spur the mobster on more and his blows fell with even more voraciousness. Also, the fact that Eliot had yet to make a true exclamation of pain also seemed to be angering their attacker. "He's not going to tell you anything. He was barely involved in the con on your uncle, it was my idea, it was my plan."

She took a sobbing breath of relief when Lou stopped the beating, she didn't know if it was her words or the fact that the mob boss seemed out of breath. Eliot's face was now extremely bruised and blood ran down from his forehead and nose. She couldn't see his chest but knew it would be mottled with bruises and she had also heard his rib break. Seeing him take so much punishment so stoically was heart-breaking in more ways than one because she knew it was her fault he had been caught at all – it was a sick twist of fate that a man who could easily dispatch a dozen armed men was only succumbed by his friendship to another thief. Her guilt was interrupted by Nate's voice in her ear.

"Sophie, distract him, offer him the money again, tell him you can get it for him right now. Just stall."

She resisted the urge to nod her head in response of the suggestion and instead quickly blurted out, "The money. You want the money, I can get it for you, right now, you don't have to hurt him."

This actually managed to grab Lou's interest and he turned to her. She worked hard to look at him and not at Eliot, panting and bloodied behind him.

"You have the money here?" the mobster asked.

"Not liquid," Sophie confessed, they kept no money in the office. "But the codes for the offshore accounts, they're in my office, I can get them for you."

"If they're in your office, we can find them ourselves," Lou replied smugly.

Sophie had to think fast, "We have one of the best computer hackers on the planet on our team, it's not as easy to find as just skimming through my Accounts folder."

"You mean the best hacker on your supposedly broken up team?" Lou questioned, smiling to have caught her in her earlier lie.

Since he had known she was lying the whole time, she decided to go with the truth this time, "Yes, that hacker."

"Well, when I find out where he is, I'll just beat the information out of him too," Lou gloated, then turned around and kicked Eliot hard in the shin, smacking his ankle against the hard metal leg of the chair. Eliot's tongue was bleeding from biting it to keep from screaming and it was frankly exhausting. Not screaming was not actually a part of Eliot's usual torture tactics, he knew it was a waste of needed energy and gained him nothing in the long run. In most situations he would yell from the start, almost focusing on the release of the pain, but in this situation he forced himself to remain stoic, silent because even though he was being careful not to look directly at the cameras in the room he knew his team was watching and listening. He didn't want them to hear his suffering because he knew if they became unfocussed with worry or too distraught then they weren't going to be as much help to get them out of here.

"Tell me where your team is!" Lou kicked him again and Eliot changed from biting his tongue to his lip and kept the incredible pain to himself.

Over the coms Hardison was desperately trying to impart his wisdom to his captured teammates, "Just lie. One of you lie, please. You know where we are, we're safe, just tell him we're somewhere else!"

"They can't lie, not yet!" Nate argued back from the front.

"Excuse me," Hardison enquired.

"If Sophie lies they're going to know she's lying because she's done it several times already to try to fool these guys. If Eliot tells them anything they're going to know he's lying because frankly, the situation hasn't escalated enough to require him to lie or tell the truth at this point. Simply from his past they'll know that he can endure a lot more than they're currently giving him," Nate explained rather morosely.

Parker cringed as she watched Eliot get yet hit again and she looked like she was going to be sick to her stomach, "That is not an encouraging thought at all."

Then they suddenly all flinched and gasped as it seemed the situation had escalated to the point that Nathan had been talking about.

They looked at the screen and saw it was true.

Eliot was screaming.

TBC

But why is Eliot screaming? You may be surprised. Tune in next time to find out! And thanks to all my reviewers, your words made this next chapter come out that much faster! Thanks so much!

Danielgirl – LOL, as awesome as that would be I think this fic might be a little violent for an episode, but thanks so much for saying it would work as one.

Serenity Starke – thanks, I work hard on my fight scenes and I write a lot of them so it's good to know people can follow them easily.

Medie Shanachie – Trying NOT to write Leverage fic? But why, it's so fun!!! Thanks for the review.

Tommyhanson – I also love Eliot and am having a great time playing with him. BTW, I am thoroughly enjoying your fic, Family, but it is breaking my heart. Is Eliot really not going to come back???

Ponyperson – Hilarious review. I laughed very hard, thank you for that, and here is more to show my gratitude.


	3. Unorthodox Plans

The Survival Job Part 3/?  
Author's Notes: Many thanks for all the kind words from my reviewers. Your support is awesome and appreciated. Ah, what's gonna happen??? Read on!  
Disclaimer: I do not own or make a profit from my fantastical fanfiction imaginings. Which is sad.  
Spoilers: Very mild ones for a couple episodes, lots for The Wedding Job.  
Rating: PG-13 – swearing, lots of violence  
Setting: Any time between the Wedding Job and the First David Job.  
Summary: Nate had a point when he said that going after a mob boss in their own city could be dangerous.

It wasn't the worst pain Eliot had ever felt by a longshot but it was enough to finally rip a scream from the thief's throat. Up to that point the mob boss had been delivering some damaging blows to his captive's face and ribs but nothing excruciating, nothing to make him plead. Eliot's silence somehow angered Mosconi more than ever and he had turned to one of the goons standing guard in the room with him.

"Give me that," he ordered as he snatched a knife from one of his lackeys, it was the same knife Eliot had dropped earlier in the hallway. "I'll rip the information out of you if I have to."

As the mob boss raised the knife back in the air Eliot could tell from the angle where it was going to land and he prepared himself.

"No, don't please!" Sophie had pleaded, unable to watch her teammate hurt any more.

Eliot gritted his teeth as the knife stabbed deep into his left shoulder. Mosconi had been aiming for just under his collarbone to do some really serious damage but Eliot had known that and moved to the right at the last instance ensuring the knife met with mostly flesh instead of vital organs. The impact was still excruciating and all Eliot could think was "about time" as he screamed for almost too long to cover up the cracking sound coming from behind him.

"Eliot!" Sophie yelled in horrified concern as she watched their enforcer's body arc with agony from the stab wound. With a vicious smirk Mosconi then twisted the knife, opening the wound even more and eliciting another agonized scream from Eliot.

Mosconi removed the knife and stepped back, smirking with triumph as the scream abated and Eliot collapsed forward, blood spilling down his chest and staining his tuxedo. Sophie closed her eyes and looked down, guilt sending tears down her face as she knew she was responsible for each agonizing moment Eliot went through.

Back in the van Parker and Hardison had reflexively covered their ears to block out the screams even though it did nothing with the earpieces in.

"Eliot, oh god, he … he stabbed Eliot. He just stabbed him. No, no, no," Parker stammered when she saw what had been done to their teammate. A brief moment passed between her and Hardison before Parker's face set with determination and she reached for her cellphone.

"Police time, definitely police time," she muttered and started to dial. Neither Nate nor Hardison tried to stop her as they could not argue that she was wrong.

But then over the com link they could just barely hear as Eliot mumbled through his agonized breathing, "Distraction. Now."

The three members in the van shared a look and Parker stopped dialing. Did Eliot have a plan? Looking at the video feed it was clear none of the mobsters had heard the hitter's request but the situation hadn't changed in any way that would make a distraction useful, unless Eliot just needed more time. That or he really didn't want his teammates to call the cops and was willing to try anything to keep that from happening. Either way, they couldn't imagine what Eliot was thinking.

"Hardison, what can you give him?" Nate asked. He had meant what he said before, this was Eliot's situation and they all trusted the Retrieval Specialist so they would trust him with this decision as well.

Hardison's fingers flew over the keyboard, "I can activate the fire alarms, it will take about 30 seconds."

On the video screen they could see a barely perceptible nod from Eliot to confirm that the fire alarm would be good enough for what he was planning.

"All right, sit tight," Hardison said as he started working. A growl over the comlink pointed out that he had chosen his words very badly. "Well, I know that you have to …handcuffs and all … but that's not what I … just wait!"

Back in the conference room Eliot shook his head in disbelief at Hardison's lack of tact but then his attention shifted up as Lou twirled the knife around his fingers happily.

"So, Mr. Spencer, about those friends of yours …"

"Told you, I don't have any friends," Eliot reiterated as he again met Lou's eye.

"That's too bad, I was really keen on meeting them," Lou said, sounding disappointed before he dug his thumb deep into the stab wound he had just created on Eliot's shoulder.

"Ah! Son of a bitch!" Eliot yelled again, this time not on purpose, as he tried to pull away but there was nowhere to go and Lou just continued to apply pressure for long seconds.

Sophie resisted the urge to yell again, to beg them to stop though she painfully wanted to. She knew there was a distraction coming, Eliot seemed to have some kind of plan and she waited alertly for her cues.

Lou grabbed Eliot's hair and pulled his head back to ensure the hitter was watching as he then pushed the knife against Eliot's cheek with a demented smile. The first drop of blood had just dripped down his jaw when the whole office reverberated with the shrill bell-like sounds of the fire alarm. Lou released Eliot as all three men in the room went on alert even though there was obviously no fire in the room.

"What the hell?" Lou looked suspiciously at his two captives but knew neither of them were in any position to have pushed any buttons or set any fires.

"It might be something on another floor, the whole building's system is connected," Sophie explained, hoping this might be what Eliot needed.

Lou didn't look happy and the shrill sound was beyond grating. Throwing the knife on the table he turned to the two thugs behind him.

"Watch these two," he ordered as he picked up his coat and stormed out of the room to find out what had set off the alarm.

The two heavyset men were on alert even alone, disturbed by the fire alarm, not threatened by their captives.

"Hey, let me ask you two a question," Eliot huffed out through long breaths towards the two men. "This boss of yours manage to pay you very well since we cleaned him out, cause he doesn't seem too interested in getting his money back. You boys look smart, how would you like to get your hands on the couple million that we stole?"

The thugs moved closer but not because they were enticed, they seemed more amused than anything.

"Mosconi's got money and he'll get yours soon enough too. Only idiots like you guys are stupid enough to cross him," one of the goons pointed out smugly.

Sophie continued to watch closely, not getting any cues from Eliot as to what she might need to do but this plan of his did not seem to be working and she tried to contemplate how to help. As it turned out, he didn't need her at all.

"Well, don't say I didn't try," Eliot pointed out quizzically with a smirk. As the two guards shared a confused look Eliot was up like lightning and flying from his chair towards the first goon who had no time to react before the thief grabbed his head with both hands and twisted, snapping his neck. The second man was a step behind the other and looked about ready to call out as he pulled up his gun. Eliot punched him hard in the throat, knowing just where to strike to collapse the man's trachea and halt the blood flow. It would take him a few seconds to die but it would be silent.

In fact, Eliot hit the ground before his second opponent, exhaustion overtaking him as he clutched his shoulder tightly. He kneeled on the floor for a moment trying not to groan in agony as he knew the team was still listening. Thankfully the fire alarm had drowned out all sounds of a fight to anyone outside though.

"Oh God!" Sophie exclaimed accidentally. Eliot's condition shocked her, she had never seen him just collapse like that, but she had also never seen him kill before and those two men were definitely dead which also disturbed her greatly.

Hardison however had a different reaction upon seeing Eliot take down the men in less than two seconds, "Woo! That's my boy!"

"What's going on?" Nate asked who couldn't see the video feed as he continued driving.

"Uh, Eliot's free, guards are down," Sophie explained as she tried to regain her composure. "Distraction worked."

"How's Eliot?" Nate asked to anyone as he was yet to hear his voice.

"I'm here," Eliot hissed, not enjoying being talked about as he pushed himself up off the floor with one hand and moved slowly towards the first body which he started frisking. His handcuffs dangled uselessly from one wrist. He found a handcuff key almost immediately and undid his own cuff then moved over to Sophie collapsing onto the floor behind her as he freed her from the chair.

"Thank you Eliot, I'm so sorry, about all of this," she said as she rubbed her wrists and knelt in front of him in an attempt to check his injuries. "We have to stop the bleeding."

He swatted her away.

"Worry about me later, we gotta get outta here. Check them for weapons," he ordered her as he rested against the wall.

Sophie found three handguns tucked away on the men and handled them awkwardly, "I thought you didn't like these things?"

"I don't," Eliot reaffirmed. "But I like dying even less. You know how to shoot one of those?"

Judging by the mortified expression on Sophie's face he took that as a no.

"Let's hope you're a fast learner, take one, give me the other two," he said holding a hand out. She handed him the first one which he took and then laid down with an annoyed sigh.

"One second," he requested when she held the second gun out for him. It was then she looked at his left hand for the first time and saw something wasn't right with it.

"What did you …" Before she could ask her question Eliot had gritted his teeth while he grasped the dislocated thumb and snapped it back into place. His body arced for a second with the pain as he let out a low growl, then shut his eyes tight.

"Whoa, that's hardcore dude," Hardison commented in disturbed awe.

"Ouch," Parker added with a cringe.

"Oh God!" Sophie exclaimed as she saw and heard the thumb go back into place – it must have hurt like hell and he had just done it to himself, without even asking for her help. Over the earpieces Nate was demanding more information again.

"What happened? What's going on?"

"Nothing, we're fine," Sophie assured him quickly, not wanting to force Eliot to answer. "Eliot's thumb is dislocated, or at least, it was. I imagine that's how he slipped his cuffs."

Eliot nodded that she was correct, picked up both the guns, tucked them into his pants and then indicated she should help him stand. Sophie complied immediately, grabbing his uninjured hand and pulling him into a standing position. He stood solidly enough but his shoulder was on fire and he was losing blood fast. He'd have to be careful and they'd have to move fast.

"Are you all right?" Sophie asked as she left a hand on his good shoulder to keep him steady should he need it.

"Peachy," Eliot grumbled as he also grabbed the knife off the table. "Let's get out of here."

"What exactly is the plan?" Hardison asked when he saw his teammates both standing and armed. "There are still guys in the office, lobby and by the elevators."

"Then what do we do? No offence Eliot but you can't fight these men again," Sophie pointed out.

Eliot growled, unwilling to agree aloud. Nate and Hardison looked concerned, they knew their friends had guns, they might just have to shoot their way out of the building.

"Oh, go to my office!" Parker yelled excitedly.

"Why?" Sophie asked.

Parker smiled widely at Hardison as she replied, "Because there are windows in my office."

Eliot did not look nearly as excited as their expert thief as he whispered harshly back, "We all have windows Parker but there's no fire escape and we're thirty floors up!"

"I know that, that's why I have a harness rig set up for emergencies. I think this qualifies," she answered cheerfully then she nodded to herself, pleased, "Always have an exit strategy."

Eliot didn't look overly happy with the idea and as he shared a glance with Sophie he saw she didn't either, but she shrugged, "It's our only option right now."

"Then that's what we'll go with," Nate decided for them, taking charge as always. "Parker's office is on the east side, we're almost there, we'll park as close as possible without being spotted and make sure the coast is clear."

"All right," Eliot agreed. "Hardison, you got eyes in the building?"

"I'm finding you the path of least resistance right now," Hardison reported. "There are two guys in the kitchen, your pal is out storming through the hallway and looks to be coming back soon and there's one guy in Parker's office and one in Nate's."

"Is he touching my plant?" Parker asked, peering over Hardison's shoulder but he didn't respond.

"Just avoid the kitchen," Hardison suggested. "Obviously you probably won't be heard over the fire alarm so I would choose speed over stealth."

"Okay," Eliot said as he took a breath to steady himself and wiped a drop of blood from his eyes. He looked closely at Sophie. "You ready for this?"

She nodded, clearly trembling, but said strongly, "Sure."

Eliot smirked, "You really are a good actress. Follow my lead. These guns don't have silencers so don't shoot unless you absolutely have to."

Sophie nodded her understanding but noted that even though Eliot had taken the first two guns he was only holding the knife in his hands, but she still held hers at the ready. Eliot's free hand was on the door handle, ready to pull, he counted down to three silently then hauled it open and they both ran. Sophie sped to the right in a crouch to avoid being seen through windows around the office, Eliot not far behind her. Parker's office was thankfully not far, they had to cross two open hallways first and then they saw her door, slightly ajar as there was still a man inside as Hardison had said. Eliot motioned for Sophie to get behind him as he crept silently to the door.

"Hardison, where is he exactly?" Eliot asked, extremely grateful the fire alarm was still resounding to cover his voice.

"He's going through her desk drawers, wait, I think he's going to turn his back to you. Wait for it …" Hardison watched the feed closely, silently urging the thug to turn around so Eliot could take him out. There. "Go. Now."

Eliot wasted no time and snuck into the room like a snake, knife in hand. The mobster heard nothing but a few seconds later felt a presence behind him. He turned and tried to yell but Eliot grabbed the man's head and slammed it twice into the bookshelf and then once on the corner of the desk then watched him fall bonelessly to the floor. Breathing hard, Eliot leaned against the wall for a moment, waiting for the pain in his shoulder to notch back down. He looked up to see Sophie creeping in.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, come on," he motioned for her to move further into the room which she did, closing the door behind her. "Hardison, eyes on the door, let us know who's coming."

"You got it," Hardison promised.

"Parker?" Eliot asked.

"Yeah."

"Your plant's okay," he informed her. She clapped.

They found the harness and pulley rig set up as Parker had promised. Eliot threw the harness to Sophie to put on knowing it wouldn't fit him.

"Thanks," she muttered as she climbed into it.

"Okay, now, it's only set up to take one person's weight right now," Parker explained. "It's not a big problem, loosen the lynch a little and just be careful when you jump."

"How exactly can we jump carefully?" Sophie asked as she finished doing up the buckles.

"Don't hit the side of the building," Parker suggested as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sophie cringed.

Eliot had never used a harness rig but he could figure out how it worked and followed Parker's instructions, loosening the lynch.

"Oh, hey, heads up," Hardison started yelling suddenly. "Your friend, the asshole, he's back and he … just found the guys you took out."

"Great," Eliot mumbled, running to the door to double check it was locked. Sophie continued to fasten her straps as quickly as possible but wasn't quite ready yet. Seeing this, Eliot bought them some time by pushing Parker's desk across the floor to block the door, however the piece of furniture was heavy and Eliot's shoulder protested greatly at the strain.

"Dammit," he growled as he rested against the desk once it was in place, the action having completely agonized his injured shoulder. "Had to get the damn cedar desk didn't you?"

"Sorry, it just smelt so nice," Parker apologized.

"We're almost there," Nate told them, turning sharp corners as he had the whole drive. "We'll try to be in the alley when you land."

"He's coming guys, with guns," Hardison reported as he watched Lou stalk towards their position with a couple more men. Eliot grit his teeth, he wanted to take these guys out and end this, make them pay for invading his home, but he had to get Sophie out and also had to admit to himself that he was in no shape for another fight, no matter how angry he was.

"I'm done," Sophie announced behind him just as the first bullet came through the door. "Ah!"

"Not a moment too soon," Eliot mumbled as he pushed open the window. He stood face to face with Sophie for a moment, he was going to have to hold on to her harness as they jumped which put them directly in each other's personal space. Another bullet flew through the door and hit just to their left and all fears of awkwardness flew out the window along with them.

"Sorry darlin'," Eliot muttered, grabbing her in a massive hug, gripping the harness straps tightly and launching them both out the window.

As they plummeted Sophie screamed and Eliot wasn't ashamed to admit that he closed his eyes. He knew that Parker used these things all the time and knew how to work them, but then there was the fact that she was crazy that made this one of the most dangerous things he had ever done. Wind rushed by for long seconds as gravity tore them down and they both had a terrible feeling that they were not going to slow, that they would just slam into the ground and become the newest street decorations. However, in a few seconds they felt the line pull tight and they started to slow. The rope that usually cushioned Parker's fall so nicely snapped a little as they reached the end because of the extra weight and Eliot felt his grip slip but he fixed it quickly and then they stopped. They were dangling now, but they were alive. They both opened their eyes slowly, unsure whether to believe it, forced face to face by the harness they both smiled at each other and laughed with relief that they were alive. Then they looked down. Sophie gasped. Eliot growled.

"Parker," Eliot started, trying to reign in his anger before he yelled.

"You're alive," she shouted exuberantly upon hearing his voice.

"Yeah, we're also two stories above the ground! The rope's too short!" he exclaimed, pissed that he was dangling so far above the ground, especially with his demolished shoulder threatening to make him lose his grip and fall.

"Better than too long," Sophie pointed out with a nervous smile. Eliot wasn't amused.

"Oh," Parker actually sounded apologetic. "I guess I calculated the building height wrong."

"We're pulling up now," Nate told them, hoping they could be of some help when they got there.

Eliot grit his teeth, he was feeling lightheaded from the fall and the blood loss and was worried about losing his grip, "Park underneath us, we're kind of hard to miss."

Seconds later they saw the plain white van pull around the corner. Inside Hardison and Parker leaned into the front seat with Nate to see Eliot and Sophie dangling high above the ground, ridiculously dressed in a tuxedo and evening gown. It would have been funny if the situation wasn't so serious.

Nate had a feeling he knew what Eliot was going to do and moved the van as perfectly beneath them as he could judge it to be.

"Right there's good," Eliot said, stopping him.

"What are you going to do?" Sophie asked as she looked down at the van that was still very far beneath them.

"You trust me?" he asked suddenly.

After everything they had been through that night she didn't hesitate to respond, "Yes."

"Good."

Eliot released the harness with one hand and pulled the knife from his back pocket with his bad arm. She watched as he brought the knife up towards the rope and decided she had changed her mind.

"No, Eliot wait, don't!"

But it was too late. Eliot sliced the rope with a deft flick of his wrist and threw the knife away so they wouldn't land on it. Sophie screamed as they fell but Eliot just held her tightly and twisted them both in midair to pull Sophie on top of him. They hit the van with enough force to seriously dent the roof and scare the occupants inside. Eliot landed directly on his back with Sophie on top of him, though she rolled off immediately and tried to catch her breath.

Eliot had the wind knocked out of him and felt a rib or two give as he tried to roll on his side and his whole body exploded with agony. He couldn't breathe and couldn't move. He laid back down, mobsters or not, he needed a minute.

In the distance he thought he might have heard the steady wail of police sirens.

When Sophie recovered a moment later she crouched next to him, torn between being concerned and angry.

"Eliot, are you all right? That was so stupid, you're already hurt!" she exclaimed over the fact that he had dropped them both and took the brunt of the landing as well.

He finally got in a breath and tried to roll away from the lecture, "Then what's a little more?"

"Less yelling, more moving people," Nate yelled over their com links. Eliot was sure he could hear police sirens now and worked a little harder to get moving. Hardison and Parker emerged from the van to help them down. Parker grabbed Sophie's hand and helped slide her down the hood of the van so she could reach the ground. Eliot took a different route and slid sideways off the roof feet first and with Hardison's help guided himself through the open door of the van to land inside in a heap.

"Jesus Eliot," Hardison mumbled upon seeing the beating Eliot had taken up close. The hitter's face was bruised and bloodied, his hair was matted down, blood flowed freely down his chest from the knife wound, his left hand was swelling from his dislocated thumb and the total rigidness with which he moved spoke to how agonizing every movement was to his body. "Just take it easy, we'll get you patched up."

Eliot did not enjoy being coddled but also didn't have the strength to shrug off Hardison's hands that helped guide him into a more comfortable sitting position in the back of the van, as it lacked seats.

"Come on," Nate urged as Sophie and Parker climbed back in as well. As the door shut Nate took off down the alley and disappeared around the building as the first red and blue flashing lights appeared.

In the back, Eliot tried to push himself up to see out the window, "What's with the cops?"

Sophie was at his side in a second though, pushing him back down, "Don't move, you're bleeding everywhere."

"Well I didn't mean to ruin the upholstery," he mumbled but slid back down to the floor as exhaustion overcame the earlier adrenaline rush and his body pounded in agony.

"That's not what I meant," Sophie whispered softly as she started to remove his jacket to look at his injuries, trying her best to ignore the pain-filled hissing sounds he made as the fabric and movement pulled at his injuries.

"Eliot, do you need a hospital?" Nate asked from the front.

"No, we shouldn't risk it. I can patch myself up, I've had worse," Eliot muttered as he leaned his head back, his eyes quickly threatening to close now that he was out of mortal danger.

"Eliot …" Sophie implored him, hating the idea of him taking care of his own wounds on top of everything he had just gone through.

"No hospitals," he reiterated firmly and Sophie dropped it.

"All right, well we know where we aren't going, but where exactly are we headed now? Mosconi found our offices, he could know where we all live too, have guys waiting there," Hardison pointed out as he joined Sophie in removing Eliot's jacket and then using it to stem the blood flow from his shoulder. Eliot hissed at the pressure. "Sorry man, we don't have a medkit in the van."

"We need a safe house," Parker pointed out. "Like a super safe one cause those guys were nasty."

"I got a place," Eliot announced. "I haven't been there since before the Mosconi job, lease is in a different name, paid under a different account, they couldn't know it's there. It's got medical supplies too."

Nate nodded his acceptance of this plan, Eliot was their security expert and if he thought his safehouse was secure Nate was inclined to believe him, "All right, where is it?"

"1222 Westwood Drive," Eliot answered. He was very happy Nate had a GPS to type the address into because he was far too exhausted to give exact directions.

"Got it," Nate announced as the GPS found it. "Looks like it's about a half hour away."

"Yeah, sounds right," Eliot agreed, fighting to retain his focus and awareness. Sleep pushed at him, promising a rest from his body's agony. He shook his head to regain focus and decided to be honest with the team, "Just so you know, I'm probably going to pass out soon."

His three teammates in the back shared a surprised glance at Eliot's announcement and hesitated to respond.

It was Hardison that spoke first, "Should we, I don't know, try to stop that from happening?"

Eliot actually laughed for a moment at the hacker's uncertainty, "No, it's fine, body needs to shut down for awhile, just try to wake me when we get to the house. And uh, Hardison, 12-40-62."

"Those supposed to be my measurements or something?" Hardison asked with a forced smile. It was unnerving seeing their enforcer so beaten yet still so in control.

"The alarm code, in case I don't wake up," Eliot explained. Hardison nodded and wrote the numbers down.

Eliot felt himself losing his battle with consciousness and struggled to get his last words out.

"Parker?"

"Right here."

"Don't touch my stuff," Eliot said, only half joking, as he was scared to have her going through his belongings while he was unconscious.

Parker smiled mischievously and held up two fingers, "Scout's honor."

"Your fingers are crossed," Eliot pointed out, but Parker just shrugged. It was the best he was getting.

Slumping down further he just had to say one more thing to the woman looking morose and guilt ridden next to him, "Sophie."

"Yes Eliot," she replied, quick to get him anything he needed.

Eliot's eyelids closed as he spoke, his voice sliding down to a whisper with sleep, "Nate was right … it's not your fault."

He was unconscious when the tear rolled down her cheek. She laid an affectionate hand on his head and whispered back, "Thank you."

TBC

Well, they got away but there's at least one more chapter, maybe two, dealing with the aftermath of our heroes' little adventure. Hope you'll stick around for it later and tell me how this all worked for you. Maybe let me know what you would like to see happen to the team from here, I will take all suggestions under advisement. Until then, to my great reviewers:

Honey-Dipped-Roses – My next fic after this will probably be a multi-chapter action/adventure complete conjob with the whole team but an Eliot emphasis. Other than that I will leave you to imagine the rest and I hope you enjoyed the knife stuff, I know it didn't last long, sorry.

SaintDogStreet – Glad all the aspects of the story are coming together for you. Thanks for the review.

Medie Shanachie – I promise, next chapter has some extreme Eliot being put back together, you'll like it. I also understand how hard it is to work on your own stuff though, that's fair, I have a couple of uncompleted original stories that are suffering because of my fanfiction musings. And I can also agree that Leverage storylines don't come easily, I am outlining my next story already and the details are hard to work out, so I totally understand where you're coming from. Thanks for the review though, means a lot.

Bakesbabe – No worries, I am an h/c fiend and this story will definitely stay directed toward Eliot and the team taking care of and appreciating him. And yeah, there are just not nearly enough stories about him out there.

Insomniac-Angel – Thanks for the great review, I appreciate hearing all the parts people enjoyed. I'm glad you liked Parker's breakdown, I rewrote it quite a bit, so I'm glad it came across nicely. And I love writing action scenes so it's great hearing that people like them. Again, I very much appreciate the well rounded review. Thanks.

Serenity Starke – So yeah, less of a cliffy on this one. Sorry about that last time, I am a cliffy addict. And there's not enough Eliot whumping out there. I went into withdrawal because I read everything out there so quickly once I got into the show. Thanks so much for the great review, much appreciated.

Emsworth – Oh, I didn't mean to steal your plot point. I also am working out a list of ways of Eliot getting hurt without him being at fault – I don't like the idea of him losing a fight, no matter how many guys he is up against so I have to be creative on how he gets hurt. Ah, thanks for putting me on your alerts, hope this chapter lived up. Thanks so much!


	4. This is Your Safehouse?

The Survival Job 4/?

Author's Notes: So this chapter is shameless hurt/comfort and I don't care, as it is my favorite thing in the world. The idea started out as just a little bit of comfort but then I wanted more and voila. There are probably only one or two more chapters after this but maybe not, I keep getting ideas that are extending the plot, so we'll all just have to see what happens as I continue.

Disclaimer: I do not own or make a profit from my fantastical fanfiction imaginings. Which is sad.

Spoilers: Very mild ones for a couple episodes, lots for The Wedding Job.

Rating: PG-13 – swearing, lots of violence

Setting: Any time between the Wedding Job and the First David Job.

Summary: Nate had a point when he said that going after a mob boss in their own city could be dangerous.

The van was silent for a few seconds after that as everyone contemplated Eliot's words and actions throughout the night. It was Hardison who eventually moved closer to their hitter and nudged him slightly to see if he would wake up again, "Eliot? You with us?"

There was no response as Eliot's eyes remained closed and his breathing continued at a steady, restful rate.

"We should take him to a hospital, I don't care what he said," Sophie implored the team when it was obvious Eliot was unconscious.

"He was pretty clear about the no hospital thing," Parker pointed out softly, earning a glare from Sophie she wasn't sure how to respond to.

"Man's a killing expert," Hardison added. "You really want to be the person to piss him off while he's unconscious. He wakes up in a hospital he's gonna hurt somebody."

"We're not qualified to take care of him," Sophie argued but the conversation was over when Nate shot her down as well.

"Eliot's more than qualified to take care of himself," Nate said from the front, then added quickly to cut off any protest. "Sophie, I know you feel bad about what happened to him but Eliot has survived alone working in a very violent field for a long time. He's on a team now and we'll help him but we'll also trust his judgment and respect his wishes. A trip to the hospital with a stab wound would mean a police investigation – getting Eliot put in jail does not help him. He says he can patch himself up, I believe him."

Nate's argument was compelling and quashed the fight in Sophie but did nothing to assuage her guilt, Nate had been right about that one.

"Fine," Sophie finally agreed quietly. They wouldn't go to the hospital, but that didn't mean they couldn't care for Eliot themselves. At the back of the van she saw a cooler that she knew would be filled with ice and Jones Orange Soda – it was Hardison's usual stash of snacks for his long surveillance jobs. Moving from Eliot's side she opened it up to find the ice was half melted but it would be good enough. "Parker, can I see one of your pouches?"

Parker removed the small cloth pouch from her belt and handed it to Sophie, "Sure, but I'm out of bombs."

Sophie smiled sadly, "It's all right, I just want the bag."

Opening the empty pouch Sophie filled it with ice, closed it again and moved back to Eliot's side placing the make-shift cold compress against the left side of his jaw in an attempt to lessen the worst of the swelling. Beside her Hardison was ripping up the rest of Eliot's jacket to wrap his shoulder with and slow the bleeding which caused Sophie to shake her head.

"How do we not have a first aid kit in here?" Sophie vented with frustration.

"Never really came up before," Hardison explained as he tied the bandage tight to keep it in place. Near the back of the van Parker sat, oddly quiet, not in the way but not helping either. Hardison turned to see how she was doing to find her staring at Eliot, her head cocked to the side as though confused and working on a particularly difficult problem.

"You okay?" Hardison asked her quietly, almost not wanting to break her from her thoughts.

The thief never tore her intrigued eyes away from Eliot but answered with a sad question of her own.

"Why would he say he didn't have any friends? He told the mob guy, twice, that he didn't have any friends." There was a questioning silence and Parker looked at them all, together in the van, taking care of their teammate. She had thought they were all friends but she sometimes was confused about friendship and was worried she might have been wrong. "Why would he say that?"

"Because he doesn't have friends," Sophie answered quietly, drawing the attention of them both.

"He has a family," Nate finished for her, causing Sophie to smile as the usually reserved leader of their team finally admitted what they all were.

After a moment Parker nodded, accepting the explanation with an, "Oh. Cool."

The rest of the ride was mostly quiet as they continued on their way to Eliot's safehouse in contemplative silence, Nate driving, Sophie tending to Eliot, Parker staring at their enforcer the whole time and Hardison clicking away on his laptop taking care of some loose ends. Twenty minutes later they arrived in an area of town they hadn't expected, it wasn't really residential, there were mostly factories, warehouses and car garages around and the whole team wondered exactly what kind of safehouse this would be. They pulled up to 1222 Westwood Drive to find what looked like a rundown two story storage warehouse with two huge garage doors on the bottom level and a windowed top floor.

"This can't be it," Hardison mumbled. "Poor guy's gotta be concussed, we must have heard him wrong."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Nate disagreed, having a hunch this would be just Eliot's style. He parked a few buildings down and turned to the others, "Hardison and I will go and check it out just to be safe. Sophie, Parker stay here with the engine running and try to wake up Eliot."

Hardison didn't look too pleased about going to take point with Nate, it was definitely Eliot's usual job, but the seriousness of the night kept him from complaining and he followed Nate without a word. As they disappeared around the side of the building Parker pulled herself into the driver's seat in case they needed to make a getaway.

"I don't like this," Parker announced, staring hard at the steering wheel. "Engine idling is bad for the environment."

In the back Sophie ignored Parker's rambling as she lightly patted the less bruised side of Eliot's face.

"Eliot, can you hear me? Wake up, we're at your safehouse. Eliot?" Sophie called to him quietly but Eliot didn't respond.

"Plug his nose and cover his mouth, that usually works," Parker suggested.

Sophie turned an incredulous eye, "That's how you kill someone Parker."

The thief shrugged, "Yeah, but they wake up first."

Not willing to take the matter that far to an extreme just yet, Sophie instead shook Eliot lightly, "Eliot, can you hear me? You asked us to wake you up."

This time she was rewarded with a short groan and the sight of Eliot's eyes fluttering open.

"Eliot, it's Sophie, how are you feeling?"

The enforcer blinked for a second and then unfortunately tried to move before responding.

"Ah, mother----," he hissed, cradling his broken ribs that had spasmed when he shifted.

"Are you okay?" Sophie asked, helping to keep him upright.

Hissing out a breath he answered, "I'm better than some of the guys I left at the office I guess."

"You might not want to move," Parker suggested, then added. "I hope your face feels better. My explosives pouch is all wet."

"What?" Eliot asked with a pained huff and the usual confused expression he wore when he talked to Parker.

"It's nothing, never mind," Sophie assured him as she helped him remained upright. "We're at your safehouse, we think."

"You actually live in that creepy old warehouse and you call me the weird one?" Parker asked, jutting her thumb out the window.

"No, I don't live there Parker," Eliot explained in a frustrated growl. "If I lived there it would be my _house_, not my_ safehouse_. You don't live in your safehouse, you just go there when you need someplace safe."

Parker couldn't argue that logic and instead announced, "The boys are coming back."

"Looks clear," Nate announced, as he and Hardison arrived back at the van, pulling open the back door. "Eliot, can you walk?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Eliot responded automatically even though he wasn't sure of the answer. Hardison jumped back into the van to help him up, knowing he could take the bigger man's weight better than Sophie. The ragtag group walked slowly across the street, Eliot grunting with each step until they finally reached the side door. Hardison punched in the code Eliot had given him but that only deactivated the alarm, it didn't open the door.

"Parker, pick the lock, I don't have my keys," Eliot announced to which the thief gladly and quickly complied. Eliot had a really good lock so it took Parker a few seconds after which she yelled, "got it" and pulled open the door. Determined to walk in on his own power Eliot took a step over the threshold but stumbled almost immediately on the raised step. Nate was easily able to catch him around the waist and keep him from taking a complete nosedive, unfortunately though Nate's arms had to squeeze down on Eliot's broken ribs to catch him, causing the fighter to tense with pain and almost fall to the ground again.

"Sorry Eliot," Nate rushed out quickly upon realizing his mistake. The apology wasn't enough to stop the glare Sophie threw him.

"Nate," she reprimanded quickly, then changed her attention. "Are you all right Eliot?"

The hitter growled in annoyance, "I'm fine. Everyone stop asking me that and get inside!"

The exclamation was punctuated by Eliot taking the lead of the group, one arm wrapped around his ribs, he somehow found the strength and anger to march to the elevator across the room that would take them to the top floor.

The rest of the group followed in reprimanded silence, finally getting the hint that Eliot might not need or want their help as much as they wanted to give it. As they followed Eliot they finally started to notice one by one that the "rundown" building was not in bad shape at all. The outside was rusted, faded and broken looking but the inside was clean, remodeled and well cared for. The whole floor was one huge open room that had been a storage warehouse but Eliot converted it into a garage. Hardison counted three cars, two trucks and four motorcycles spread out across the floor, all very high end. Parker noticed too and even grabbed Hardison's arm as she pulled him towards her favorite.

"An Aston Martin!" she exclaimed in excitement as she ran a hand over its shiny exterior. "I knew it, Eliot is totally James Bond."

"Yeah, except for the fact that he can't do up a tie," Hardison whispered.

Parker was leaning into the driver's side window to look at it better when Eliot's deep voice echoed through the whole room, "Parker, what did I say?"

The thief jumped, put her hands behind her back and did her best innocent routine. Across the room Hardison saw Eliot shake his head in exasperation as he punched another code into a loft elevator and waited for the doors to open. Hardison and Parker rushed back to join the group, expertly avoiding the glares thrown their way by Sophie and Nate while Eliot seemed entirely focused on the elevator that was opening. Nate tried to push ahead of Eliot to pull open the security gate but the hitter blocked him stubbornly and lifted it up himself with his good arm, even though it pulled on his ribs terribly. Nate stepped back, realizing that Eliot was making a point of showing that he didn't need any help.

When the five of them reached the top floor they found that what had probably once been the office of the building had been transformed into a spacious apartment. There were huge windows taking up the far wall with a kitchen to their right and a hallway to the left that they could see led to at least three bedrooms. The living room was fully furnished, but as Eliot was hardly ever there he hadn't bothered with any personal items and there was only the essentials, couch, chairs, kitchen table, lamp and coffee table. It wasn't anything fancy but it would more than suit their purposes.

"Make yourselves at home," Eliot grumbled as he stepped off the elevator and made a beeline for the bathroom. Sophie and Nate followed a few steps behind leaving Parker and Hardison to take in their new Spartan surroundings.

Looking over the complete lack of anything to play with, Parker wondered aloud to Hardison who was setting up his laptop on the couch, "What did he think I was going to steal? Not much here."

"You were gettin' pretty cozy with his cars," Hardison pointed out. "Hope there's a WIFI network around here."

"They were shiny," Parker said, smiling as she glanced at the elevator, clearly contemplating going back downstairs to look at them again.

"You're staying right here," Hardison yelled before she could take a step. "Nate or Eliot might need us for something so sit down."

Parker sat down with a huff next to Hardison and tried to think of something to do to keep her from remembering everything she had just seen happen in their office.

Down the hall Nate and Sophie were smart enough to wait a few seconds before following Eliot into the bathroom. He had indicated that he didn't need any help but they took the open bathroom door as an invitation to at least check in on him. The bathroom was huge and Nate saw that Eliot hadn't been exaggerating when he said he had medical supplies. The hitter was standing in front of the sink pulling out a pill bottle from a very well stocked medicine cabinet. The toilet and stand-up shower were tucked away in one corner and in the other huge open area there was a chair and a table with another cabinet above it filled with gauze, tape, bandages and every other medical supply they could need.

They watched Eliot hiss as he struggled with the childproof cap of the antibiotics with his one good hand and had to fight every urge in their bodies to help him. He finally got the lid popped off and downed two pills. As Eliot cradled his shoulder and turned to sit down in the chair he had set up at his own personal operating station Nate took a cautious step forward.

"Can we help?"

Eliot suppressed a growl, he did not like any member of the team seeing him like this, injured, vulnerable. He was the muscle of the team and it would ruin his illusion of invincibility for them to see him incapacitated, but then again, they had already seen everything that had happened that night and it would be a hell of a lot easier and safer to have someone help him with the patching up. However, he wasn't going to be able to stand that eager, guilty look Sophie kept sending in his direction for much longer.

"You can," he answered, indicating Nate. "But don't ask if I'm all right and don't apologize if something hurts. Annoys the hell out of me when people do that. Sophie, I don't have any chick clothes but there's some sweats in the bedroom that you can put on if you want to change."

It was an obvious dismissal, but if Eliot didn't want her there she wouldn't push it, she could barely stand to look at herself right now as it was knowing the pain she had caused him. Looking down she seemed to notice for the first time that her arms and evening gown were covered in Eliot's blood as it had transferred onto her when they jumped out the building.

"All right. Thanks Eliot," she said, backing away. "Take care of yourself."

When she was gone Nate closed the door behind her and turned to Eliot, "She feels terrible about this."

"I know," Eliot answered as he pulled a syringe and some bandages from the medical cabinet and laid them on the table. "I'll talk to her … later."

"That's fair," Nate replied. Their enforcer had more pressing matters. "What can I do?"

"Cut this bandage and shirt off me so I can see what I'm dealin' with," Eliot requested, indicating his shoulder. Nate grabbed a pair of scissors and did just that, throwing the tatters in the garbage. Sitting perfectly still Eliot grunted whenever his ribs or shoulder were jostled and Nate had to work very hard to remember the hitter's instructions not to apologize for the pain he was causing.

"It still seems to be bleeding," Nate announced when all the fabric was cut away. Eliot looked as well and nodded.

"Bastard twisted the knife too. Grab that gray pouch," he instructed. Nate picked up the package marked QuikClot and tore it open to see it was filled with a black powder. "Pour it on my shoulder, it'll stop the bleeding."

Eliot was sitting tensely, good hand gripping the table while he purposely looked away. This preparation made Nate hesitate but he trusted Eliot knew what he was doing and poured the powder into the wound. Eliot's reaction was instantaneous, he howled through his teeth and arced back, gripping the table so tight Nate thought that he might break it. As the initial pain lessened Eliot started to slump forward and Nate grabbed him, under the arms this time, to keep him upright.

"I gotcha," Nate said as Eliot slowly pushed himself upright again, face still creased in pain.

"I hate that stuff," the hitter grumbled, nodding at Nate that he could let him go now. "All right, that stuff needs a few minutes to work. You sure you want to help?"

It was a strange question for Eliot to ask because he knew he wasn't trying to get Nate to leave, he didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was actually trying to make sure that Nate would stay. He had lost track of all the times he had cauterized and stitched his own wounds alone, in bathrooms and hotel rooms, but now that there was someone here for the first time he found it comforting. It was a "not having to worry about passing out and waking up the next day on the bathroom floor still bleeding" kind of comfort, so when Nate responded, "I'm sure" Eliot actually allowed himself a smile.

"All right, get Hardison in here then," Eliot requested, volunteering the hacker. Nate left without a word and returned moments later with Hardison in tow, looking hesitant and then shocked to see Eliot who was shirtless, his ribs and torso incredibly bruised in purples and blues and black powder pooling in with the blood on his arm. After his initial shock it seemed as though Hardison didn't know where to look, as he avoided staring at Eliot's injuries and couldn't seem to make eye contact with the hitter.

"You okay with this?" Eliot asked, noting Hardison's squeamishness. "Real blood's a little different than your video games. If it makes you uncomfortable you can send Parker in."

"Par … Parker? Parker? You want her in here? You want your hand surgically replaced by your foot, is that it? Nah, I'm good. Blood, you know, it's just, it's usually in there and now it's … it's out here and what is that … that stuff?" Hardison rambled and still avoided eye contact but Eliot was at least pretty sure he wouldn't pass out.

"Blood clotter," Eliot replied.

Hardison nodded like he knew something about this stuff, "Oh yeah, course. So, what … what are we doing now?"

"Binding my ribs so I don't puncture a lung. These three are broken, other side's fine," Eliot explained. "Nate's gonna push them into place and wrap them, you're going to hand him anything he needs and catch me if I pass out. I know your upper body strength is like zero, but don't drop me."

Hardison huffed like it was the easiest thing in the world as he tried to cover up his panic about performing potentially dangerous and painful medical work on a trained killer, "Yeah, I can do that. No upper body strength, I lift things."

Eliot pushed himself to the edge of the chair to make it possible to loop the bandages around his chest and let out a sigh to prepare himself. Nate and Hardison exchanged a quick, nervous glance and hoped Eliot didn't notice. Nate ran his fingers down the side of Eliot's ribcage and tried not to cringe when he reached the broken ones – he could feel them shifting under his fingers as the enforcer breathed.

Grunting again, Eliot braced his good arm against the back of the chair to stay upright.

"Okay," Nate said in preparation, taking a breath as he pushed down and felt at least two of the ribs align back in place with the others. Eliot let loose something between a howl and a moan as Nate's fingers probed his ribcage for long seconds. Their leader apologized for his ineptness, despite Eliot's earlier warning, "Sorry, can't seem to get the third one."

There was an almost audible snap when he finally did and Eliot slumped a little as Hardison cringed. Nate kept a hand on the now aligned ribs and held out the other hand to Hardison, "Okay, bandage."

Hardison unrolled the pressure bandage and handed the end to Nate then moved around Eliot's other side to loop it around his chest and hand it back to Nate once more. They repeated this several times until the bandage was tight enough for Eliot's liking then strapped it in place.

When they were done Hardison and Nate stepped back with a sigh and dual relieved smiles. Eliot shifted for a minute in the bandage to make sure it was secure and then breathed for a few seconds, shutting his eyes. The two men worried he would pass out but were surprised when he lifted his head again a few seconds later, seemingly rejuvenated.

"All right, part two," he grumbled, clearly not excited. Grabbing the syringe he had laid out earlier he pulled the cap off with his teeth and then unceremoniously injected the contents into his shoulder.

"What is that?" Hardison asked, trying hard not to turn away as the plunger went down.

"Local anesthetic," Eliot replied, throwing the syringe in the trash, not explaining that it would be pretty hard to stitch himself up if he was screaming in pain.

"Man, you perform surgery in your bathroom a lot?" Hardison had meant it to come out as a joke, but regretted the idea when he saw the serious gleam in Eliot's eye, indicating that yes, he did.

"It's the easiest room to clean up blood," Eliot answered, then went back to task mastering. "Hardison, there's a mirror in my room somewhere, can you get it? Nate, wet washcloth."

"Be right back," Hardison promised as Nate grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the tap. He handed it to Eliot who cleared away the clotting agent from his shoulder so he could see the wound more clearly.

"Stitch kit's on the top shelf," Eliot said and Nate handed it to him without a word. Laying it out on the table Eliot paused a moment and then looked up to meet Nate's eye.

"Thanks Nate," he said, sincerely, his meaning clearly deeper than the obvious.

Nate shook his head and tried not to laugh bitterly, "Eliot, you have sacrificed greatly for this team tonight and you undoubtedly saved Sophie's life and kept her safe, for which I am more grateful than …. Well, just, _thank you_, because doing this for you is … absolutely nothing in comparison."

"All right," Eliot replied simply, enjoying the idea of not being in anyone's debt for their help. At that moment Hardison came back with the mirror, it was about the size of a picture frame.

He held it up questioningly, "So what are we doing now, fixing your make-up?"

Eliot glowered, his feelings of gratitude disappearing quickly as he ground out a response, "No, you're going to stand there and hold it, _quietly_, so I can see what the hell I'm doing. And don't move."

Nodding that he understood Hardison did as instructed and held the mirror in front of Eliot so he could see the stab wound from a better angle than the one he had when he just looked down.

"Do you need me?" Nate asked when he wasn't immediately given a task.

"Yeah," Eliot said and pointed back to the shelf above him. "Put some gloves on and grab those sponges, I'll need you to wipe away the blood."

Nate pulled down the box of gloves and Eliot took a pair as well after he got his stitching supplies ready. In a few minutes they were all prepared with their tasks and Eliot started to push the needle into his skin to close up the wound. Above him, Hardison watched in awe, gaping not only at the fact that he was watching surgery take place, but that he was watching Eliot perform surgery on himself … in a mirror … one handed. It was without a doubt the most hardcore thing he had ever seen.

With his shoulder numb Eliot was able to focus on the operation and not the pain, which was helpful as he knew this was going to be a long process as he had to fix up inside the wound before he stitched it up. The wound started bleeding again and Nate quickly swabbed it away when Eliot stopped stitching, but then the hitter growled when he tried to start again.

"Hardison, if you're gonna gape could you at least hold the mirror steady?"

"Wha…?"

Shaking his head Hardison realized he had let the mirror drop too low as he had been watching the operation proceed and was quickly growing paler.

"My bad," he said in apology, lifting the mirror again.

Eliot shook his head in disbelief but continued working. After a few minutes the silence started to close in on Hardison who was finding it hard not to fidget or pass out as he watched his friend bleeding and stitching.

"So you usually do this all by yourself, huh?" Hardison asked conversationally, then pointed to Eliot's chest. "Is that why most of your scars are all zig-zaggy?"

"Hardison, what did I say about the talking?" Eliot hissed as he raised his eyes with a deadly glare. "Open your mouth again and I'm gonna stitch you up next, and I'm not gonna tell you where."

"Yeah, you said no. No talking, got it."

Nate threw a glare of his own Hardison's way for breaking Eliot's concentration, to which Hardison could only shrug.

Forty-five minutes, twelve sponges and two dozen stitches later Nate was finally wiping away the last of the blood as Eliot finished the final stitch and not a moment too soon. The enforcer's face had started beading with sweat almost fifteen minutes ago and though he had worked hard to remain focused Nate was sure he had seen his eyes droop at least twice.

"Cut this," Eliot instructed, holding up the thread. Nate did as asked and then all three sighed in relief as Eliot announced, "Done."

Peeling off his gloves, Nate watched as Hardison was able to finally put the mirror down and immediately lean against the wall. The hacker was clearly exhausted but Nate wasn't sure if it was mentally or physically. He then looked down to see that Eliot was leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, obviously spent. Reaching into the supply cabinet Nate pulled out a roll of gauze and offered, "I'll bandage this up for you, then maybe you should get some rest."

Eliot's eyes flew open and he ran a hand over his face, "Yeah, sounds good."

The fact that Eliot had accepted Nate's suggestion spoke to how truly exhausted the hitter was. Hardison remembered to not zone out just yet and pulled off some pieces of tape for Nate to attach the bandage with. It only took a moment and then Eliot was pushing himself up slowly, hand tightly gripping the table as he stood. He had been sitting too long though and lost too much blood meaning when he straightened up he got a dizzying case of headrush and nearly went crashing to the floor. Four hands grabbed him, two on each arm, keeping him standing until he could steady himself. It took a few seconds to pass as Eliot blinked and tried to find equilibrium.

"You all right?" Nate asked before he was willing to release him.

"Yeah, thanks," he finally said, shrugging them off politely as he took a step forward and opened a drawer in the side of the table. Hardison leaned forward to see the drawer was neatly organized into three sections – needles, tubing and IV bags – and Eliot grabbed one of each and then started a slow limp towards the door to head for his bedroom.

"No wonder you don't like hospitals," Hardison mumbled behind him. "You got one in your bathroom. What is that, morphine?"

Eliot swung around faster than he should have been able to with an expression that was a cross between disgusted and offended, "No. I don't use that stuff and if something like this ever happens again don't you dare let anyone give it to me."

The harsh, defensive tone said more than Eliot's words themselves and an awkward, heavy silence settled for a moment. Hardison stood leaned back, hands half raised as he tried to escape Eliot's fury without actually running, but he could think of nothing to say in response to the hitter's explosion of anger. A moment later Eliot seemed to physically shake something off then looked down, breaking the tension.

"It's saline," he said eventually, quieter, in response to Hardison's earlier question. "I lost a lot of blood, gotta replace the fluids."

As Eliot turned away Hardison nodded his understanding. Nate was standing behind the hacker as they moved into the hallway and thought to lighten the mood, "I'm surprised you don't have actual bags of blood."

Eliot actually smiled over his shoulder at that one, "You should see my other safehouse."

"I don't want to know," Hardison mumbled and shared a look with Nate as Eliot limped away.

"When Eliot gets better, I think there are some stories that will have to be shared," Nate mused, clearly not enjoying that he was finding out so much about his team member tonight that he hadn't known before.

"Yeah, you have fun trying to get that man to talk to you," Hardison scoffed and walked off after Eliot.

Eliot stopped in surprise when he got to the doorway of his bedroom to see Sophie standing next to his bed wearing a ridiculously large track suit, fluffing up his pillows. He had bought the safehouse a couple of months ago but never actually stayed there, as he had explained to Parker, and thus there hadn't been any sheets on any of the beds. Seeing this when she came in to change Sophie had quickly remedied the situation and upon seeing Eliot explained, "I hope you don't mind, I made your bed."

Nodding, Eliot saw that his bed now had sheets, a comforter, pillows, pillowcases and more blankets than he could ever need on top of it. Seeming to notice that for the first time as well Sophie shrugged, mildly embarrassed, "I didn't want you to get cold. You look better."

"I feel better," Eliot replied, trying to take that guilt-ridden gleam out of her eye. It might have worked too if Hardison hadn't come up from behind to comment.

"That's probably just cause your shoulder's anesthetized from surgery. Tomorrow, now that's a different story."

Eliot didn't have the strength to glare at the hacker for making the grifter feel twice as bad as she already did. Sophie dropped her head as she moved away from the bed while Eliot shuffled towards it with a sigh and hung the IV bag on a pole he had set up for just such a thing. This was a safehouse after all, he knew he would probably only ever go there when he was injured.

"Do you need anything Eliot?" Sophie asked as she prepared to leave.

He didn't really but knew she was dying to be useful so answered, "Glass of water."

She nodded and disappeared down the hall as Eliot shoved aside the huge stack of blankets on his bed so he could sit down and insert the needle end of the IV in his hand. Hardison handed him the tape he had taken from the bathroom to tape it in place and then he was done, and yet Nate and Hardison were still standing in his bedroom.

"Thanks guy … you can leave now," Eliot reminded them, wanting to get to sleep but unable to relax with them in the room.

Sophie returned with a glass of water and a huge pitcher filled with ice, which she placed on his bedside table, "In case you want more."

Nate placed a hand on Sophie's back to guide her from the room with them, "Let us know if you need anything."

Too exhausted to reply Eliot just nodded as they finally left, closing the door behind them so he could collapse in his bed and fall into sleep or unconsciousness, whichever came first.

TBC

Ah, Eliot is comforted, that feels better. Next chapter we learn about the repercussions of the night. Be there!!!

And many thanks to everyone who let me know they were enjoying the fic, especially:

Whimseyrhodes – Thanks for the review, love hearing from someone whose stories I really enjoyed myself, especially "I Found What you Lost". Parker and her plant seem to have been popular. And I also agree that Parker probably wouldn't miscalculate the height of a building generally, but I really wanted to drop Eliot two stories onto a van, so I pretended that she did, and I regret nothing. Hope you're still going to be writing more Leverage fic yourself.

Christycard – Ah, thanks so much. I love knowing the pace is good because when I read a lot of fics I actually do what you said and scroll down to the good parts, so it's good to know that the whole fic is being read. And yeah, I will probably never have Eliot lose a fight without something extraordinary happening.

SiriusDoctorWhoHoney – No worries, not gonna kill Eliot, then I couldn't play with him. And Nate is in no danger, I assure you. Thanks for the review.

Lolita Wright – a very touching, short review, thank you. It made me blush and smile.

Honey Dipped Roses – (I can't remember if I PMed you back lately, sorry, busy week). First off, you did not freak me out at all, we all have our things we like, and I'm glad the limited knife work was enjoyable to you. Secondly, your reviews just blow my socks off and everyone who reads should thank you because they make me want to write even more. Parker is definitely the hardest person to write because I like to keep her funny and quirky but not sound like an idiot, but Hardison for some reason his dialogue just flows for me, probably because I am also a HUGE geek, so I really enjoy writing him. And this chapter, like my little vignette, was kind of inspired by your love of Hardison/Eliot banter – it was originally going to be just Nate helping Eliot patch himself up in the bathroom but then I didn't want to leave Hardison out for you so I had him come in halfway through and really liked what I got, so thanks. Hope you enjoyed. And yeah, there are a ton more story ideas in my head, here's hoping I'll have time to write them all. Thanks for the great review and the messages, they're much appreciated.

Serenity Starke – Thanks for the great review, I love knowing what people are enjoying as it helps write later chapters. Those were all my favorite parts too and I'm glad the end came off as believable and funny and not cheesy, which I was a little worried about. And thanks for the little nudge with your PM, I found the end point I was looking for as I worked on the fic just after I wrote you back.

Wah-Keetcha – Eliot pain is like a drug and I am addicted, it's just fantastic. Thanks for the review, and as for our mobster friend, I have plans for him don't you worry.

Media-Shanachie – Ah, it's cool that you have people looking over your writing, I'm actually a little jealous because if I had someone in Real Life looking over my stuff I might actually get something original finished. Fanfic is just so much fun though! Hope you do get time to write that Eliot story, there aren't enough of those, though I totally get that Leverage plots don't come easily, least for me I know I am really working for the ones I have outlined. And yeah, Eliot is all patched up now, hope you enjoyed.

Ponyperson – Wow, that plant scene was really popular! Glad you liked it. Yeah, Eliot h/c, I just can't get enough, I have a whole list of other Eliot stories I want to write and I can only pray that I can get them all done. Glad you enjoyed!

Thanks to all my reviewers, know that you are loved and appreciated. Stick around next time to learn about the repercussions of the night. Later, Goody.


	5. That's What Family's For

The Survival Job 5/5  
Author's Notes: Possibly the longest chapter I've ever posted of anything. Took me awhile to feel the story was actually resolved, hopefully none of you mind. Enjoy, as this is the end.

Disclaimer: I do not own or make a profit from my fantastical fanfiction imaginings. Which is sad.  
Spoilers: Very mild ones for a couple episodes, lots for The Wedding Job.  
Rating: PG-13 – swearing, lots of violence  
Setting: Any time between the Wedding Job and the First David Job.  
Summary: Nate had a point when he said that going after a mob boss in their own city could be dangerous.

* * *

When the three were clear of the bedroom Nate thought that now that Eliot was taken care of it might be time to help out their other teammate who had also been through a traumatic event that night.

"We should eat something, let's see if there's anything in the kitchen," Nate suggested mostly in Sophie's direction.

"Eliot doesn't want us going through his things," Sophie reminded them, but Hardison disagreed.

"Nah, he just didn't want Parker touching his cars, he said we could make ourselves at home."

As they reached the end of the hall they were surprised to hear pans rattling already. Parker's head popped up from behind the counter and upon seeing her teammates she explained in a serious, almost confused tone, "I thought food might be good, it always seems to make things … better. I'm making spaghetti. I don't think there's any cheese though. Can you have spaghetti without cheese?"

"Sounds great," Hardison told her with a smile to put her at ease as the task of cooking for them seemed to be as stressful to her as hanging out with normal people on jury duty. Like Sophie she was just trying to cope with a confusing situation by being helpful.

"Is Eliot okay? I could hear … things," Parker said, indicating the groans of pain that had been coming from the bathroom. Sophie's head perked up at her question as well even though she had just seen him.

"He seems to think he'll be fine," Nate answered. "I think so too, he's lucid, knows what's he's doing. I've had Eliot patch me up, he does a good job. We should probably all just try to keep it down, let him rest."

The moment of silence following this announcement was broken by Sophie, who shook her head and pushed away from the kitchen counter.

"I'm sorry, I have to … do something," she explained. Nate sighed and followed her; she clearly had no idea what she was going to do but it seemed that Sophie could not sit idly by at the moment and let her own memories plague her.

Parker stared down into the pot she was stirring, "We're going to need a lot more spaghetti to make this all better."

Hardison handed her a box of noodles.

Down the hall, Nate cringed as he saw Sophie heading towards the bathroom. Of all the places in the apartment she should go, that was the last place he wanted her.

"Sophie, maybe you could do up the other beds …"

"Oh my …" Nate's idea was interrupted by Sophie's shocked exclamation and he saw her place a hand on her face as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Once Eliot had finished stitching up his shoulder they had helped him directly to bed – no one had cleaned up the blood yet.

As Nate slowly reached her side he could see tears threatening to fall from her eyes at the sight of Eliot's blood coating the floor and even some of the walls of the room.

"Soph, he's fine, really, it looks worse than it was," Nate lied to her as he tried to lead her away from the room but she stood firm.

"I did this to him, it's my fault. What they did to him and I just sat there … God Nate, why didn't I just run when you told me to?" she asked, guilt ridden eyes turning to stare into him for answers.

"Sophie, it's not your fault, none of it, Eliot even said it and I'm telling you again. Even if you had run sooner Mosconi probably would have found you and it would have been the exact same thing. It was a bad situation Sophie, wishing there had been an easier way out can't make one appear."

"He's worse than you. The bank in Juan, I could have gotten out, I would have been fine, but you decided to come back and rescue me, just like Eliot. He took down twelve armed men without a scratch, he could have left, he _should_ have left, but he stayed and agreed to be tortured, because of me. God, how do I live with myself?" Sophie questioned as she leaned heavily against the wall.

Nate took her by the shoulders, forcing their eyes to meet, "Sophie, there was nothing you could do. This was all caused by an angry mob boss. If it had been any one of us in that situation the same thing would have happened, Eliot would have made the same choice for any of us, he protects this team, he wouldn't have abandoned any of us there."

"Next you're going to tell me that the fact that Mosconi found us isn't my fault either, right?" Sophie replied, her anger rising, at herself and Nate. "You know, since I'm the one who convinced you to take the job for Theresa, twice."

"I wasn't thinking that at all," Nate told her softly, but she could hardly be described as listening.

"You told me it was too dangerous and I didn't care, I talked you all into going. And even better, you wanted to abort when it got even more dangerous and I made you stay, I made everyone stay and this is how it turned out."

"We all knew the risks Sophie, including Eliot, and he wanted to stay, he wanted to work that job even though he was the one most at risk when the Butcher showed up. You can't assume responsibility for the danger that the team agrees to put itself in, it's something I have to remind myself of every time we do a job," Nate confessed.

Sophie bit her lip and pulled away. Wetting a washcloth she started to scrub away the blood around the sink, "This never should have happened."

"No, it shouldn't have, but we'll be more careful, we'll keep it from happening again. No more jobs in our city, at least not dangerous ones, we'll do better background checks, get new identities, we'll do everything, but these are the risks we take Sophie," Nate reminded her, and he wasn't unaware of the irony of him, the 'honest man', giving the grifter a speech about the risks they accept when they break the law.

"Those are the risks Eliot takes, for us," Sophie added, angry at herself, but then seemed to deflate as she stopped scrubbing. "He's going to be so angry at me."

Nate shook his head, almost amused, "Sophie, you really don't get it do you? This was a very traumatic night for you I know, what you went through, what you saw, but for Eliot, this was a job, this was just what he does. I know Eliot's background better than almost anyone and it's hard for us to understand but for him, this wasn't a big deal. It was a complication that he solved and escaped from, mission accomplished."

Sophie seemed incredulous as though Nate was just trying to pacify her.

"So, no harm no foul then. He's just grown accustomed to being captured and tortured because it happens so often?" she asked sarcastically.

Nate didn't back down though. He met her eyes and nodded, slowly, "More often than he would ever let any of us know. And this was definitely one of the easier times, judging by the ones I know about."

Instead of reassuring her this information seemed to just traumatize Sophie even more as tears threatened to spill again and she whispered, "That's terrible."

"That's his job, a job he's accepted, a job he usually works alone. Now he has us and we'll help, but we still have to let him do his job, and tonight, what he did, that was his job and that is the only way he thinks of it."

If Sophie had a response it was interrupted by Nate's cell phone ringing. He looked at the caller ID and composed himself quickly, "We're on."

Flipping open the phone he answered with a bored lull to his voice, "Nathan Ford."

Sophie only listened for a moment as he exited the bathroom quickly to take the phone call in the hallway. Looking down she continued her task and scrubbed at the blood in the sink. Even if Eliot had been "doing his job" she owed him her life and a clean bathroom was hardly enough to pay back such a debt, but it was the only place she had to start.

Out in the living room Parker and Hardison stirred their sauce and noodles as they listened to Nate's one-sided call.

"What? Was anything stolen? Did you catch who did it? …. All right, I understand, I'll be there as soon as I can. Thank you."

As he hung up Nate turned to their hacker, "Hardison, are we all set?"

"Fake financial records are on your computer in a file marked "Mosconi" and the security video is clean. I took out all the frames with Sophie or Eliot, did some creative photoshopping with other parts and completely deleted the entire conference room. You'll have to say those cameras are malfunctioning."

"All right, I guess I better go talk to the police then," Nate said with fake cheer as he headed for the door.

Parker stopped him by grabbing his arm, "Are you sure? Because the police, they're never good."

Nate smiled reassuringly, "Parker, we may be bad guys but the police are much more interested in putting away evil guys, like Mosconi. Besides, unlike the rest of you, Nathan Ford has no criminal background to speak of and thanks to Hardison Leverage Consulting has a squeaky clean 80 year old history of legal financing work, I'll be fine. I'll call you when I'm done or if anything goes wrong. Stay here until then, all of you. Take care of Eliot and maybe make Sophie some tea or something, get her calmed down."

Hardison nodded, "All right, you be careful."

"I will," Nathan assured them as he headed for the door and then casually tossed over his shoulder as he left, "Oh, it might look bad if I show up driving a panel van so tell Eliot I borrowed one of his cars."

When Nate was gone Hardison and Parker shared a terrified expression.

"Did we not just tell him to be careful?" Hardison ranted. "Man basically just signed a death wish."

"Maybe he'll be really _really_ careful with it," Parker offered optimistically. The sound of squealing tires from the garage made them both cringe with the thought of the impending end of Nate's life when Eliot woke up.

Twenty minutes later Hardison walked hesitantly into the bathroom to find Sophie kneeling on the floor, scrubbing angrily at the blood on the tile.

"Hey Sophie, uh, we made some food and tea, maybe you should take a break for a bit," he suggested, but she continued to wipe and rinse.

"I'm fine, thank you," she replied simply.

Hardison stepped fully into the bathroom and gently grabbed her wrist to get her attention, "Eliot's fine, he's gonna sleep for a long time though, you got plenty of time to finish later. Come eat something."

"All right," she finally agreed after a moment of consideration. After washing her hands thoroughly she followed Hardison into the kitchen to find a bowl of pasta that actually smelled pretty good. Parker and Hardison sat to either side of her and they all ate in uncomfortable silence.

Looking around, desperate for something to talk about that would distract them from the night's events, Hardison finally commented, "You know, I bet he gets a really nice view from those windows and all but they really don't seem like Eliot's style. Big open window like that, no curtains, people can see what he's doing, sniper can take a shot at him."

"He can take a shot but it wouldn't do anything, that's bulletproof glass," Parker informed him, never looking up from the pasta she was twirling onto her fork.

"You're kidding."

"No, I checked it out. Three and a half inches thick, polycarbonate thermoplastic, nothing's getting through that short of a bazooka, which is good for us," Parker continued cheerfully.

Hardison shook his head in disbelief, "Man really thinks of everything."

Sophie ate her food sparingly but said nothing, her mind was too preoccupied with the thoughts of what exactly Eliot expected to happen in his line of work that he needed bulletproof glass on the windows. Everything she learned about the hitter that night just caused her more unease instead of making her feel more secure, as though someone with a machine gun could knock down the door at any minute so they had to be ready.

The rest of the meal was mostly shrouded in silence once more as they wordlessly took their plates into the kitchen as they finished. Looking up at the clock Hardison saw it was close to midnight.

"So, it's pretty late but, is anyone tired?"

Adrenaline and fear usually caused extreme exhaustion or extreme alertness and as he got the expected negative responses from his teammates to indicate they were still riding the adrenaline pony, he motioned towards the living room, "Get the popcorn and blankets set up on the couch, I got a bunch of movies on my laptop that I can play through the television."

Parker actually seemed excited but Sophie just nodded morosely and did as instructed. Grabbing a soda before he set up their entertainment Hardison ensured that Sophie took the end of the couch while he positioned himself in the armchair. Parker sat on the floor.

Making sure the sound was set just loud enough to be heard in the living room and not reach Eliot's room Hardison hit play. They were only about fifteen minutes into _Benjamin Button_ when he saw his plan had been successful and Sophie was sound asleep on the couch. He decided to wait another half hour to make sure she was in a deep sleep and then move her into one of the bedrooms.

Parker on the other hand was wide awake and looked at him with questioning eyes, "I expected you to pick something with explosions."

"That wouldn't really have suited my purposes of trying to get Sophie to fall asleep," Hardison admitted but also hit stop on the movie as they had no interest in watching it. Turning around Parker saw what Hardison had done and smiled her appreciation of his plan. A few minutes later Hardison moved the grifter into one of the bedrooms with Parker running ahead of him to open doors and pull down blankets so the transition would be smooth.

Mentally and physically exhausted, Sophie never stirred.

"You take the other room," Hardison offered the blonde. "I'll stay out on the couch. I'm probably not going to sleep anyway."

"Okay, you be watchdog," Parker commented cryptically then disappeared into the second spare room.

Hardison set himself up on the couch with soda and the internet, knowing it was enough to keep him buzzing for several hours. He smiled as he thought about Parker's words. After everything that had happened and with Eliot out of commission they couldn't afford to let their guard down at the moment with all of them sleeping so he was the watchdog as he sat parked outside the front door, vigilant. Starting up his Warcraft account he knew there were worse things he could be.

* * *

Eliot regretted not getting darker, thicker curtains as the rising sun woke him up the next day. Blinking groggily he tried to bring up a hand to shield his eyes but hissed in pain when he tried to move his arm. Taking a moment to breathe he took stock of himself. The anesthetic had worn off in his shoulder which was the worst of the pain he was feeling. He hadn't bothered making a sling the night before and he knew it was the first thing he should do this morning. His ribs were broken but bandaged so they would only hurt him if he moved too fast or breathed too deeply. The rest was just bruises, cuts, aches and soreness and one ankle that felt like it might have swelled a little. Basically, he felt like shit but he was functional and lucid. He had woken up to much, much worse situations before. Looking to his left he saw the water Sophie had left him the night before. He hadn't wanted it then but now his dehydrated body craved it. Pushing himself up ever so slowly he picked the glass up carefully and drank only half of it, fully aware that he may make himself sick.

Down the hall he could hear voices and movement and he knew the rest of the team was up. He could have slept more but he wanted an update on the situation so he carefully threw his feet over the side of the bed and pushed himself to standing.

Pulling a t-shirt on was pure hell with his ribs and shoulder constantly protesting, but the last thing he wanted from his team was pity and if they saw the bruises, bandages and cuts more than they had to then that was exactly what he would get. Pulling open the bottom drawer of his dresser he found a simple sling to brace his arm and take pressure off his shoulder. Once it was on he looked at the clock and found the whole process of getting dressed had taken over twenty minutes. He sighed, knowing that it was going to be a long couple of days as he moved at a snail's pace.

As Eliot shuffled into the kitchen he saw Sophie was sitting at the kitchen table nursing a steaming cup of tea while Hardison and Parker argued quietly about something behind the counter. Eliot smiled when he realized that none of them noticed him and even injured he could still be stealthy.

"Hey," he said in general greeting as he limped towards the table to sit down.

"Eliot," Sophie exclaimed, standing up as he came in to pull a chair out for him. He nodded his thanks as he slowly lowered himself down.

"How you feeling, man?" Hardison asked from behind him. "Are you hungry? We got some bacon on the go or at least we will once Parker gives me back the spatula."

The blonde shook her head, "No, you're doing it wrong."

"Probably not a great idea right now, but thanks," Eliot replied, knowing he was prone to nausea when he was concussed or lost blood so he should stay away from greasy foods.

"How about a cup of tea?" Sophie offered, rising to make it before he even responded.

"Sure," he said, not wanting to stop her.

"Are you sure you want to sit at the table? Couch'd be more comfortable," Hardison pointed out, already starting to move as though to escort Eliot to the other room.

Working extremely hard to repress a sigh of frustration, Eliot said, "No, I'm fine."

Shoving the spatula at Hardison, Parker started to head towards the linen closet, "You're probably cold, I'll get you a blanket."

"There's an afghan in my room," Sophie suggested.

"He'd probably prefer a sweater," Hardison added.

Not about to let this go any further Eliot bellowed, halting everyone in their tracks, "All right, stop this, alla you!"

Seeing he had their undivided attention he continued, "You're worried, I get it, and I appreciate it but I'm fine, really. If I need anything I'll tell you, I promise. The hovering is worse than the injuries, at least I know how to deal with those, so please, just stop the coddling and let me do my own thing. It's not the first time I been hurt, I'm not gonna fall apart."

The reprimand made all their eyes drop to the floor and Parker skulked back into the kitchen to pluck the spatula back from Hardison.

"That's cool man, we understand, sorry, I think we just don't know what to do with ourselves," Hardison confessed.

"I know," Eliot replied, his tone clearly saying he wasn't actually angry. The rest of his team were criminals but they had never been exposed to the same violence that Eliot was so accustomed to and it was normal for them to be confused about how to handle it. Then Eliot added apologetically as an afterthought, "Some tea would still be good though, Sophie, if you're making it."

"No problem," she assured him as she poured a cup for him and brought it around to the table.

"Thanks," he said and took a slow sip. When he looked up he caught Sophie's intense gaze as she seemed to be trying to subtly appraise all his injuries for herself. He sighed as he realized that the guilt-ridden look in her eyes hadn't disappeared at all.

"So, where's Nate? Still sleeping?" Eliot asked. When he didn't receive an immediate answer he looked up to see his team members all sharing hesitant, nervous looks. "Guys, where's Nate?"

Hardison broke first, never looking up from the bacon, "He's talking to the cops."

"What?" Eliot demanded, instinctively trying to rise from his seat in surprised anger and only stopping when his broken ribs seized his whole body in pain. "Ah."

Then Parker made it worse, "And he most definitely did not take one of your cars to get there."

Hearing "Nate" "cops" and his car in the same sentences was practically causing steam to come out of Eliot's ears and he leaned heavily against the table as he tried to form words around his anger.

"Wh … my … cops …Nate … my car!?"

Hardison shook his head incredulously at Parker, "How you have survived in the criminal world continues to astound me."

She just shrugged, "Well this is why I worked alone, way less drama."

"Eliot, please sit down," Sophie requested softly. She was making a concerted effort not to sound like she was hovering but she couldn't bear to see him standing there clutching his ribs as he shook with anger.

Eliot clenched his good fist and tried to calm down, "Okay, why is Nate willingly talking to the cops?"

"It's really not a bad idea when you think about it," Sophie replied, taking the pressure off Hardison and Parker. "As a business Leverage and its employees are squeaky clean, as is Nate as far as the police are concerned. He's a retired Insurance Analyst that has gone into consulting so naturally when someone breaks into his office the police would call him and he would show up to see what happened."

"But, what is he gonna say?" Eliot demanded to know having been unconscious when the team discussed this particular part of their escape plan.

"That Leverage Consulting used to do business with Nicky Mosconi until he got arrested at which point we cut all ties. I created some fake records to back it up. Nate will tell the cops that he can only imagine that Lou Mosconi broke in looking for a lead on the money that Nicky Mosconi mysteriously lost upon his arrest and thought we might know where it is," Hardison said as he repeating a prepared response. "Of course, we know nothing about that though."

"And upon not being able to find the money Mosconi's guys got in an argument and some of them killed each other," Parker added, tying it all up nicely.

Eliot's head was spinning even though most of this actually made sense, but his headache and natural aversion to police was making it hard to accept this as a viable plan, "Yeah but Mosconi will tell the cops why he's really there, if they even caught him, then we're finished."

"They probably caught him, he didn't really have anywhere to go," Hardison pointed out, then explained. "When we knew you and Sophie were going to be able to get out for sure we called the cops and then I shut down the elevators as they got there so Mosconi and his guys would have to take thirty flights of stairs down to get out. By the time they reached the lobby they would have been surrounded."

"Well that's great but it doesn't explain what Nate will say when Mosconi points out we're all thieves," Eliot reiterated.

Sophie bit her lip, "That is the big risk, we don't know how much Mosconi knows about us. He wasn't at the wedding, as he has three warrants out for his arrest, so however he learned about us it wasn't from a first hand meeting. He may know very little about any of us, we just don't know how he found us or tracked us down."

Eliot shook his head in disbelief, "This is the worst plan he has ever come up with."

"I agree, and I'm including the time he wanted me to sneak into a party inside a suitcase," Parker added.

At that moment they heard the elevator from the garage start up, indicating Nate had returned as the alarm would have sounded for anyone else.

"Speak of the devil," Sophie muttered.

They all turned, still slightly tense at the elevator's movement, to see Nate step off the lift clutching a bag full of groceries as there had been nothing fresh in the fridge or cupboards of the safe house.

"Hey, you're not in jail!" Parker greeted him enthusiastically.

Nate placed his groceries on the counter.

"No, I'm not, thank you. Eliot, you look …" the hitter's face was bruised, swollen, his arm was in a sling and his expression was pure anger. "… well."

"The cops, Nate. You talked to the cops," Eliot grit out through his teeth.

Nate seemed to have been expecting his response and put out a placating hand, "We needed to find out exactly how much the cops and Mosconi both knew. It was the easiest way and it all turned out pretty well."

Before Eliot could voice any more of his displeasure Sophie cut him off with a question, "How did it go?"

Nate half shrugged, "Good and bad. The good news is the police are mostly in the dark, the records Hardison made up will keep Leverage looking clean and they bought the backstory. They were definitely more interested in Lou Mosconi."

"What about Mosconi? What did he tell them about us?" Eliot asked.

"Absolutely nothing," Nate replied to everyone's surprise. "Mosconi got away."

"What? How? I locked down those elevators, they would have been stuck until the cops showed," Hardison said defensively.

"They were," Nate told him. "Mosconi rushed the lobby from the stairwell with six guys and had a shootout right there with the cops. Mosconi got away in the firefight with at least two of his men, the rest were killed."

"That's good for us since he can't tell the cops about us," Sophie pointed out. "But bad because now he's still out there looking for us."

"Yeah, but most of his muscle is now dead or in jail and the cops have a lead on his trail. Chances are he's running and won't be thinking about us for awhile," Nate said confidently. "But even so we'll be safe about this. We'll stay here at least another day while Eliot heals up then we'll check out our apartments together, make sure everything is clear and nobody's watching or listening. Hardison, I know it's a longshot but if you want to try to track Mosconi somehow I'd be more than willing to let you try."

"Yeah, you got it," Hardison promised, moving to his laptop.

"Fortune cookies!" Parker exclaimed suddenly as she rifled through Nate's bag of groceries.

"So, we just sit here and wait?" Hardison asked, trying to clarify their plan.

"We're regrouping," Eliot said as he pushed himself to standing. Now that he was updated he was more than willing to let his body rest up. "I'm going back to bed, if you need me for god sake's knock or I won't be held responsible."

"Do you need a hand with anything?" Nate asked reflexively. He had missed Eliot's speech about hovering so the hitter just growled out "No" as he limped down the hallway slowly.

"Was it something I said?" Nate asked in response to Eliot's attitude.

"He told us not to coddle him," Sophie replied. "I don't think he likes us seeing him like this."

"I don't think he likes being like this," Hardison added. "We'll have to find a way to help him out while still giving him his space."

"Or we can just give him his space," Nate suggested. "Eliot can take care of himself, he'll tell us if he needs anything. Now, I smell bacon."

After eating breakfast the team soon learned that while Eliot's safehouse was extremely comforting in that it was completely secure, it was also incredibly boring. He hadn't stocked the apartment with anything for entertainment other than the television, there were no books, no games, no computer. Hardison had his laptop which allowed them to watch movies but that was about it, which left the team to try to find ways to occupy themselves.

Nate immediately followed Eliot's lead and got some sleep as he had been up all night being questioned by the police. Hardison had his laptop to keep him busy and Sophie focused herself entirely on cleaning every last inch of Eliot's already fairly clean apartment. Parker desperately wanted to leave the house to go explore but Nate had instituted a strict safehouse rule – they weren't leaving for at least a day – so she dedicated a few hours playing a game she invented called "Find the Weapons". It had started when she went to take a shower and noticed one of the tiles in the bathroom was loose. Upon pulling it off she actually found three ninja stars inside which were enough of a treat for her to start scouring every room in the apartment. By supper time she had accumulated the ninja stars, four knives, a flash grenade, seven lock picks and a baseball bat. Hardison tried to argue that the bat might not count as Eliot may just play a lot of sports but relented when Parker pointed out that there was no glove or ball anywhere in the house and the bat had been in a ceiling panel.

Shuffling into the kitchen later that afternoon, Eliot looked and felt a little better, and stood over Nate's shoulder who was sitting at the table.

"Are you seriously reading the TV manual?" he asked in confused surprise.

Nate sighed, "I wish I wasn't, though the resolution and speaker quality is very impressive, there's nothing else to read in this entire apartment."

Eliot nodded, "Right, sorry, I never really planned for company or an extended stay."

"No, don't apologize, we're the ones invading your safehouse and we appreciate it. It's just a little cabin fever, it'll probably get worse now that Parker's done playing "Find the Weapons" though," Nate warned him.

Letting his lip quirk up in amusement Eliot glanced at Parker who was trying to look innocent while balancing on the back of the couch, "How many knives?"

"Four," she said confidently.

However, he shook his head, "That ain't all of 'em."

Parker's eyes lit up with the challenge, "Can I go in your room now?"

"Knock yourself out, just don't actually knock yourself out," Eliot instructed as she sprinted down the hall.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Hardison asked from the couch.

Eliot half-shrugged, "As crazy as it sounds I think a bored Parker is more dangerous than an armed Parker."

"She's been putting them back as she finds them," Sophie assured the hitter as she emerged from the kitchen.

"I'm not too worried about it," Eliot said casually, oddly trusting that Parker knew how to use the weapons she was finding. "You guys eat yet?"

At the mention of food Hardison's eyes lit up more than Parker's had, "Nah, we were considering ordering out but in this crazy digital world not a single one of us has cash and plastic is too dangerous right now."

"I'll make us something," Eliot replied, turning for the kitchen, grateful to have something to do, however he was stopped by Sophie in the doorway.

"Are you sure you should be doing anything strenuous?"

If it was anyone else Eliot would have growled, but Sophie's guilty look made him keep his cool as he continued to downplay his injuries for her even though his whole body ached terribly.

"Cooking ain't strenuous, for me at least. Besides, you just volunteered to help, won't be difficult at all, I'll give you all the grunt work," Eliot smirked as he walked past her. She half-smiled herself, adopting Eliot's light attitude, and followed him to assist with supper.

"Wow," Eliot mumbled when he saw the place. The kitchen hadn't been dirty or anything but the shine coming off the fixtures was threatening to blind him it was so clean. "Did you do this?"

Sophie shrugged, "Like Nate said, not much else to do."

"Well thanks. All right, I should have steaks in the freezer," Eliot mumbled as he searched through the freezer one-handed until he found the meat and threw it on the counter. "Pans are under the stove."

And with that instruction they were cooking. Since they were feeding five people it was easy to have enough to do for two people and Sophie was careful not to get in Eliot's way. Also, true to his word he let Sophie do all the physical work of the meal though he yearned to grab the knife out of her hands and show her how to properly cut up carrots. Just as Eliot was adding some spices to the steak they all turned at the loud whoop that came from his bedroom.

"Whoa!" This was followed by a very excited Parker sliding into the hallway, wildly swinging around the nunchuks she had just found tucked above Eliot's window frame, "These are so cool. How do you use them?"

"First off, you put them down before you hurt yourself," Hardison requested from the couch, watching warily as she swung the wooden weapons around without regard.

"I'm like a Ninja Turtle. The red one," she continued as she twirled the nunchuks in figure eights.

"No, you're the orange one, Michaelangelo, only you're not, so put them down, please," Hardison begged again, flinching as she tried to spin them over her head.

"Parker, when you hit yourself in the head with those, and you will, trust me, I'm not gonna be held responsible and it is gonna hurt," Eliot warned without too much concern. After all, if she whacked herself it was her own fault.

"Put them down Parker," Nate added with more authority as he was forced to lean back when she got too close with them.

"You guys are babies, I'll be fine," she promised even as she just barely missed grazing her temple.

"You don't put 'em down you don't get any steak," Eliot finally threatened, seeing how uncomfortable everyone was with Parker wielding a weapon.

The nunchuks dropped faster than the smile on Parker's face, "Steak? I want steak."

"All right, then put those back where you found them and I'll teach you how to use them when I'm better," Eliot promised. Parker tapped her fingers along the weapon's edge as she considered it. Walking further into the kitchen she could smell the steak and knew her choice was made for her. Still, she stood in front of Eliot, deal not yet complete.

"Pinky swear?" she asked, little finger held up to Eliot's face.

"My pinky is doing no such thing, but yeah, I'll do it," he replied.

"Swear," she implored him.

"I swear, now get your finger outta my face."

She smiled and removed it, "Very good then."

Twirling the nunchuks one more time she disappeared down the hallway to return them to Eliot's room. As she rounded the corner the rest of the team could just barely hear the light impact and Parker's startled "ow" as she finally hit herself with the weapon.

"I told her," Eliot mumbled unsympathetically. The thief skulked back into the living room moments later, head hung low as she rubbed the back or her head.

With one last stir of the pot she was in charge of Sophie announced, "The potatoes are done."

"Yeah, I think everything's done," Eliot agreed, looking over their meal one last time before calling out. "Food's done. Everyone grab a plate and a drink."

Sophie and Eliot were nearly trampled in the stampede for the kitchen.

"Thanks," Parker said with a smile as she unashamedly took the largest steak from the pan, grabbed a spoonful of each side dish and disappeared to the dining room.

Hardison was a bit more articulate with his gratitude, "Thanks guys, smells great. Don't even think about touching the dishes okay?"

"Don't worry about it," Eliot assured him, but knew that the team would never believe that he didn't find cooking a chore.

"Eliot, beer?" Nate asked from the open fridge, holding up the beverage to see if it was what the hitter wanted to drink.

"Not great with a concussion, grab me a juice," he replied as he grabbed himself a plate and let Sophie serve him since he was one-handed then joined everyone else at the table.

After what had happened the night before the meal easily could have been grave and somber, but Eliot had been the only one physically hurt and he was smiling and joking, making a concerted effort to keep the mood light which in turn made everyone else relax as well. Therefore there was a lot of laughter as the whole team hung out for once instead of just worked together.

Nate smiled as he took a slow sip of his scotch (only his second one that night) and surveyed his team. What had happened the night before easily could have broken them. When covers get blown and cops show up most criminals will hightail it and run as soon as possible, but here they all still were, together and alive and more than willing to keep going. It was a miracle in itself and as Nate stood to do his share of the dishes with Hardison he had a feeling they were all going to be okay. They were a family after all.

* * *

The next day Parker could barely be held back as they were finally allowed to leave Eliot's safehouse and check out their apartments to see if they were safe to go back to. Knowing Eliot would insist on coming along despite his injuries Nate, Hardison and Parker quietly tiptoed out early in the morning while the hitter was in a deep Tylenol-induced sleep, leaving Sophie to keep an eye on him. Upon waking up Eliot was not pleased he had been left behind, which he was very vocal about both to Sophie and on the phone with Nate. Eventually he had to concede though that Nate would be _almost_ as good at spotting anyone staking out the apartments as he would and Parker and Hardison were more than capable of checking for any electronic surveillance devices, which left him and Sophie to wait for the all clear. Eliot made French toast to fill the time and Sophie thanked him more than she had to for breakfast, all the while guiltily watching him move slowly around the house. As they were both doing the dishes an hour later Eliot finally broached the subject he knew she wouldn't bring up herself.

"I ain't mad at you," he told her plainly and suddenly as he dried the forks. "And you shouldn't feel guilty about what happened, it wasn't your fault, none of it. I'm fine and we got away, that's what's important."

Sophie smiled briefly in appreciation of his rare show of concern but then turned sad eyes to look at him. Over the last few days she had been battling her own guilt it was true but she had also come to realize the extent of the truly violent nature of Eliot's line of work, something they had all been in denial about since teaming up with the hitter. In truth, it was Eliot's light-hearted approach to what had happened that truly concerned her now.

"Thank you, for saying that. But, Eliot, don't you find it the least bit disturbing that you consider all this 'fine' after everything that happened to you? You're seriously hurt and could have died."

"I'm alive, I'm walking around, which is a lot more than I can say for some other jobs I've worked," Eliot replied simply, so unphased by the subject material that he continued drying dishes.

Sophie shook her head. Eliot was an intelligent, talented man and there were so many other, safer ways to make a living, even as a criminal, than the one he had chosen so she just had one last question for him.

"Why Eliot? Why do you do this? How could it possibly be worth the pain and the risk to your life?"

Throwing the dishcloth lightly onto the counter Eliot gave her a knowing grin as he replied, "Cause, you're alive too."

Grin still playing on his face Eliot disappeared down the hallway. Watching him leave, Sophie smiled in understanding – Eliot put his life on the line so he could save people who needed him, so he could help. Nate had told her earlier that Eliot protected the team, which she knew, they probably all owed him their lives at least once over, but she had a feeling that he had protected a lot of other people before them too and that a lot of good people out there owed Eliot their health and safety.

She laughed lightly and shook her head – and yet he was always trying to convince them that he was a bad guy.

* * *

The rest of the team returned a few hours later with the all clear on their apartments, there were no signs of any surveillance equipment anywhere and no one was watching so they could all go back to their own homes with the condition that their earpieces stay in at all times in case anything went wrong with anyone. Eliot opted to stay at the safehouse for now, not because he didn't trust the team's recon, but it was just easier as he was still injured. The most difficult part had been convincing the others that he didn't need anyone to stay with him and almost had to kick them out of his house they were so intent to stay and care for him. It was a nice gesture but Eliot was a private guy and after the five of them living together for the past few days he really needed some space. When they were finally gone he immediately dropped onto the couch and breathed in the quiet.

The cops had told Nate they could go back to the office any time they wanted, all the evidence they needed had been collected, but none of them were too eager to head back there until they were absolutely sure the cops were in the dark. They all putted around town, doing odds and ends to pass the time now that they were allowed to walk around freely. Eliot grumbled to himself that there only seemed to be one place they wanted to go as every time he woke up there seemed to be a different team member in his house, doing something to try to be useful. He knew he should really go change the alarm code so he could get some alone time, but he really didn't want to do the dishes in his sink so he left it for now, knowing they would magically disappear by the time he woke up the next day.

Hardison had been hacking into the police system everyday for a week to read the reports on Mosconi and what had happened and assured the team that they were not being investigated, the cops were in the dark as to who they really were, which he was mildly proud of. Damn if he couldn't come up with great fake identities. The next day they decided to go back to the office to celebrate with drinks and a poker game.

Eliot didn't look it but he was healing up nicely. His arm was still in a sling and the bruises on his face were livid, though this was actually a sign they were getting better, and the swelling had completely gone down in his face and ankle some time ago. He still moved slowly because of the ribs but everyone acted normally around him finally and he was glad he didn't have to give another speech about hovering around him and that they were just letting him take care of himself.

It was a good game and a good night. They laughed and bluffed and cheated, but no one minded because it was to be expected – they were millionaires playing with a $50,000 prize so it didn't really matter to them. Someone always refilled Eliot's drink for him so he wouldn't have to get up which he allowed but he still stood up and got something himself every now and then to remind them he wasn't crippled. Just as he returned to the table after grabbing some chips he heard Sophie ask hesitantly.

"So Hardison, did you have any luck at all tracking down Mosconi, finding out where he went?"

All eyes went to the hacker and Eliot wondered if Sophie really wanted to know or was trying to distract them from the fact that she had a good hand. The totally focused look in her eye told him it was the former.

Hardison cleared his throat, "Nah, he is totally not in my world. There's nothing on him or the aliases he has that the cops know about. I even checked out his business partners, there is no sign of this man anywhere."

"So he could come back," Parker announced gravely.

"He could try," Eliot mumbled, knowing exactly what he would do to the mob boss if he ever saw him again.

"Yes, but his power station is completely crumbled, he has no money, no enforcers, I doubt he would even enter the country again, let alone come after us," Nate assured them all.

Not caring for the conversation Eliot reminded them why they were here, "Are we gonna play poker? Whose bet is it?"

Parker raised her hand and threw in, "Two hundred."

But Hardison would not be distracted, "You don't care if we find this guy? He could come back."

"He does or he doesn't, not much we can do about it," Eliot replied casually, matching Parker's bid.

"I'm sorry," Hardison said, completely stopping the game as he put down his cards. "But after what happened to you specifically I would think you would be all gung-ho on finding and most likely maiming this guy."

Eliot shrugged, still playing casual, "Hardison if I held a grudge against everyone that tried or succeeded in banging me up I would be a much angrier man than I am today, do you really want that?"

The hacker didn't have to think about that, "No, definitely, definitely not."

"Good, so you keep looking for Mosconi, tell us if he shows up anywhere, but for now it's your turn."

"Call," Hardison said, throwing in his chips. They all showed their cards.

"Royal flush," Eliot grinned and scooped up the chips one-handed. The rest of the team gave the obligatory grumble but no one called foul to Eliot winning four hands in a row. They would all just have to find a way to cheat better. Eliot smiled as he thought about the easy acceptance he had with these people, who weren't afraid of him but laughed and joked and actually cared about him. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself anymore that they were his family and he would protect them all at all costs and when he was patched up the first one on his list would be Lou Mosconi. Hardison couldn't find the man on the internet but Eliot knew certain ways of getting information that would give the hacker nightmares. He would find him, eventually, but for now he was playing poker with his family and he was winning, and if they were letting him win because he was hurt he swore to god he would break their fingers. That's what family was for.

* * *

Epilogue

The police never found Lou Mosconi.  
Three months later though, Eliot did.  
Upon his return to LA he grinned savagely for a week.  
And as I said, the police NEVER found Lou Mosconi.

The end.

That was so long! I feel like I wrote another story within a story. I was gonna cut it up into two chapters but I wanted to be done with as I am working on other things. Hope you guys didn't mind waiting for the resolution. Thank you all for reading and hopefully I will be back shortly with more Leverage fic for you all. Much love, Goody.

Prinzessin – The Eliot whump is great and I have more coming in another fic. The Sophie resolution was kind of short but I hope you liked it.

Wah Keetcha – Thanks for the review. You're too kind.

Bakesbabe – Ah, thanks so much. I've been hoping to see more long Eliot h/c fics around too but a lot of them are unfinished, which makes me sad. I feel there will be a fic boom when season 2 starts though, so I'm waiting impatiently.

Whimsey Rhodes – Thanks for the awesome review. Dreaming of Eliot is totally understandable, I do it all the time. As for other stories, I have another one almost finished that's a one-shot for a challenge. I hope to have it up by the end of the week so be on the lookout.

Corabe – That was a wonderful review, made me blush. Thanks so much.

Medie Shenachie – Well yeah Eliot can patch himself up, he's a total bad ass! I've been reading your fic and enjoying it. I was actually going to have the team steal Faberge eggs in another story I outlined but I can change it to something else if I ever get that one written. Thanks for reviewing and keep writing yourself!

ShadowWolfDagger – I completely agree, Eliot really is the most flexible on the team. Because he's the only one that does fighting, acting and the break-ins, which is awesome. He doesn't know computers but I can forgive him that. Glad you enjoyed it, and yeah, you saw what happens when Parker is left alone … nunchuks!

Kenzimone – You are just all kinds of awesome. Great to see you in the Leverage world, I'm hoping the fandom grows quickly, so tell your friends! Thanks for the awesome review, hope you liked the ending.


	6. The Survival Job Missing Scene

**Title:** The Survival Job – Missing Scene  
**Author's Notes:** So in my haste to finish the Survival Job I completely forgot a subplot that I wanted to include in the final chapter (yeah, I suck, whatever) but I have now written it and am posting it as an extra add-on. Just imagine that the Survival Job was a DVD and this is a deleted scene in the special features. Takes place during the final chapter when the team is waiting to get the all clear that they can return to the office.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** After Eliot is hurt he and Nate have a discussion regarding Eliot's past.  
**Spoilers:** None.

* * *

Eliot was sitting on the couch flipping through the sports channels to find a decent hockey game when he heard the downstairs elevator start up. Nate had called ahead to say he was coming by so Eliot only tensed slightly, hand hovering over the knife hidden beneath the table until he was sure it was actually Nate.

The grate of the lift opened to reveal Eliot's boss and the hitter relaxed back on the couch, not feeling the least bit embarrassed for being cautious – it had only been three days since Mosconi found them after all.

"Whatever you brought you can just put on the table," Eliot called out, grinning when he finally found a channel with some high-sticking going on.

Nate entered and dropped the eight pack of beer on the table, "How did you know I brought something?"

"Seems to be a growing trend," Eliot replied, pointing out the things he had already collected when their other teammates had stopped by to check on him. "The books and soup are from Sophie, the stuffed bunny was in bed with me when I woke up, which is creepy so I can only assume it's from Parker, and Hardison brought the DVDs and hooked up the cable so I'd have something to watch. You, brought me beer, which is great, but you also came to talk so sit down and let's get it over with."

Nate's eyes widened as he lowered himself into the armchair, angling away from the TV to face Eliot, "How do you know I came here to talk and not just check up on you?"

Eliot shook his head. He was still pretty beat up from the working over Mosconi and his guys had given him, but that had been days ago and with rest, quiet, food and with his teammates coming over to check and change his bandages he was healing nicely.

"Nah, it ain't your style. You wouldn't come over here just to check up on me because you know the others are already doing that so you're here to talk about something. So what is it, you want me to try to track Mosconi?" Eliot asked, never one to beat around the bush when it came to conversations or actions.

"No, it's not about that," Nate said simply, looking away for a second, clearly having planned to ease into the conversation more than this.

Getting the feeling that this was going to be a serious talk Eliot muted the TV, "So what is this about?"

Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees Nate met Eliot's eyes almost apologetically, "Morphine."

Eliot's jaw twitched slightly which he covered up by taking a swig of his beer, "I don't use the stuff. End of story. Good talk."

"I know you don't, I need to know why," Nate pushed despite knowing this conversation couldn't lead anywhere good.

"It messes with my head. I don't like not being in control of myself, that's how people get killed in my line of work," Eliot explained.

"I understand that much, I also know that's probably why you never drink more than three beer a night, but when Hardison asked if you were taking morphine your reaction was angry. It was defensive and personal, I need to know why," Nate reiterated slowly.

"I really don't think you do and I don't see how it matters," Eliot countered, no longer making eye contact and keeping his sole focus on the muted hockey game.

"It matters because something like this might happen again and you could end up in the hospital without any of us around. If they put you on a morphine drip without permission I need to know why that's a big deal and what the repercussions will be. It's my job to know these things and plan for them, Eliot," Nate replied simply, making it clear he wasn't here out of sick curiosity but for the safety of the team and Eliot himself.

Eliot took another drink of his beer, understanding Nate's intentions and also hearing the unspoken message that said 'if you want to be on this team I have to know everything, right now, or the deal's off'. Putting his beer down Eliot turned to face Nate, deciding that if his boss wanted to know then he was going to know all of it.

"I was in Croatia, about six years ago. I was helping free some prisoners from the government camps, most of us split up once we got through the wall, had a point to meet up later. I was leading a group of maybe a dozen people, couple kids, all in pretty rough shape. Government soldiers were right behind us so I told them the meeting point and hung back to buy them some time. Think I took out about eight guys before I took two rounds to the chest," Eliot didn't miss Nate's flinch and Eliot had trouble covering up his own as he thought back to the prisoners he had helped escape, their starved features and hopeless eyes. He also remembered the incredible burning pain of the bullets piercing his chest, knocking him down and stealing the air from his body only to replace it with agony.

Nate only nodded not wanting to interrupt the narrative.

"They needed information from me so they hauled me back to their camp and patched me up. They wanted to know where the rebels met, their plans, the usual. Thankfully they were smart enough to know I wasn't gonna survive any rounds with a cattle prod so instead they started me on a morphine drip, increased it a little every couple of hours for … I don't know how long, it got pretty hazy for quite awhile there."

"They got you addicted," Nate surmised, filling the still air when Eliot paused.

The hitter nodded and continued with the same even, emotionless tone, "Then they shut it off cold. I had healed a bit in the couple of days I had been on it, just strong enough to survive the withdrawal that was gonna hit in a couple of hours at which point I knew they were going to offer me more drugs in exchange for information on the rebels."

"And?" Nate probed, oddly desperate and yet reluctant to hear the rest.

"It never happened. By some godly stroke of luck the rebels attacked the base just as I was coming down off my high. It wasn't a rescue mission or anything, it was liberation with some damn good timing. I used the distraction to get free, found a familiar face in the rebels and got some help after the fight was over. Of course, help consisted of going back to the room I had been kept in and getting tied up," Eliot reported with a sardonic grin.

"I thought you were allied with the rebels?" Nate asked, wondering if Eliot had lost him or he had lost Eliot to the strikingly morbid memory.

"I was. I asked them to do it. I knew the withdrawal was going to snap something in me, at least for awhile, I'd seen it happen before and I didn't want to hurt anyone, which I would have. They brought me water and took care of me. Two days later after some trippy dreams I had kicked it," Eliot finished. He took another sip of beer, trying to appear casual as his entire being was focused on not getting overpowered by the memory of the withdrawal, the way his skin had literally crawled and itched like fire ants were on him, the terrible hallucinations, the dank room, the tight ropes restraining him and the unforgiving yearning and need that had consumed his mind for days, driving him mad with its intensity.

"And that's it?" Nate probed quietly.

"Mostly. It was out of my system after a couple of days but I could taste it for weeks after that, craved it for months but I stayed clean. It cost me jobs, focus, couple broken bones, then it finally went away, slowly and I put it behind me and never went near it again."

Nate could only nod. It was a terrible story and he knew Eliot was leaving out the worst of the details for his sake and yet it still chilled him to the bone.

"Okay. I'll have Hardison put a morphine allergy into all your fake medical records, just in case."

"Thanks," Eliot replied, still staring at the television.

Feeling like a coward, Nate stood up to leave. There was nothing to say in response to Eliot's story. He had told Nate plainly what he had wanted to know; there was no need to ask any questions and he knew Eliot would not appreciate or allow any pity or condolences for what he had been through, so with a somber nod Nate headed back for the door. When Eliot called to him he didn't turn around, just stopped and listened.

"If anything like that ever happens you've gotta do the same thing. I don't want to hurt you guys."

Nate understood that that was probably Eliot's biggest fear, hurting the team he had silently promised to protect, so he nodded again, "I know, I will. Take care of yourself Eliot."

"Thanks for the beer," Eliot called out, then Nate was gone.

Both men sighed deeply once the other was gone, disturbing images and memories running rampant through their minds.

Tonight there would be nightmares, of that neither one had any doubts.

The end.

Okay, now it's really over. Just wanted to throw in a little Eliot backstory for fun. Thanks for reading, sorry again that I forgot to put it in the actual fic. My bad. Robin.


End file.
